Reaching for the Red Moon
by Llawela Dragon
Summary: This is the first ever Harry x Wyatt story. NOW DISCONTINUED! FIND A BETTER STORY. THANK YOU. Sincerely, Llawela Dragon.
1. P: Visions of Red

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Rating:** R

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** A Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. There are some things that Wyatt left out of his recount, however, and things are being put into motion now that the Halliwells have arrived. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that would not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** This is a **SLASH** story, meaning a story with a male/male relationship. If that bothers you, than leave, now. This is my first slash piece, so I beg of you - be kind! I look forward to any reviews and/or _constructive_ flames that I receive. Please help me in any way that I can!

**Prolouge - Visions of Red**

* * *

_The moon shone oddly down upon the earth, its unclear edges fringed with a deep, crimson red. Slowly, as if someone had lit a match under it, the moon was being consumed by the unusual, and unwelcome, color. _A red moon means the death of someone that you know._ He looked around the field, wondering if anyone else could see what was happening to the moon, but everybody was absorbed in the battle that was happening around him._ _Why couldn't anyone see what was happening to the moon? Did anyone care that innocent people were being killed?_

_He wanted to yell at them, to tell them to stop, that fighting wouldn't resolve anything, but he had spent his whole life fighting against the evil, and he wasn't the person to tell them this. He looked around, searching for a face that he knew. All he could see were unclear faces, blurred with the intensity of the magic occuring around him. _This isn't natural. _And then, out of nowhere, he saw his mother. The red highlights in her dark hair glimmered under the crimson moon, _or is that blood_, and her brown eyes reflected the emotion that she always felt when defending her family from demons. There was anger- the anger of a mother defending her children, a woman defending her sisters, a wife defending her husband, and a Charmed One defending the innocent._

_She wasn't defending herself. She was falling, falling to the ground, a dagger sticking out of her leather-clad chest, blood spilling down her front. Her face twisted in pain, and Wyatt ran, ran for her, but with each step he took, she appeared further and further away, until he could no longer see her through the bodies that were already littering the ground, and the fight that still, despite her death, was going on._

_Was that why the moon was red? Was it because she was dying?_

_But hadn't the moon already turned red?_

_He looked around again, his vision blurred, not because of magic now, but because of his tears. He ran away from the battle, ignoring the grass thatsquished with blood under his feet, and found himself staring. One of his aunts, lying amongst the cloaked, dead bodies of the opposition, stared unseeingly up at the moon, which was almost completely red, now. He ran to her, holding his hands over her chest, but he could do nothing; he could not heal her wounds. It was too late. _No. _She was dead._

_Gently, he lifted a hand and closed her eyes. He saw how he left a red streak on her face, and looked down at his hands. They were stained with blood, blood that wasn't his own_. Demons don't bleed._ Why were his hands covered in blood? Who had he killed? He looked up again, and heard his name being yelled. _Wyatt!_ He ran, quicker than he had ever in his life, towards the source of the noise. _Wyatt!

_Screaming his name, standing before a tall being bathed in shadow, was a young man. Everything around him blurred as his features became clear. His hair, darker than the night around him, stood up, as if on end. His eyes, so green, glittered with malice and hatred and love and longing and so many other things that Wyatt couldn't understand. His body, skinny but muscled, was covered in leather. He wore chain mail over the leather, which fell around his knees like a dress. In his left hand, he held a shining, glimmering sword._ Not Excalibur. _Wyatt realized that he, himself, held Excalibur, although he hadn't remembered summoning it. In the young man's right hand he held a long stick of wood. He radiated power and goodness._

_Harry. The name came suddenly to mind, ripping from his throat. _"Harry!"_ The shadows before Harry shifted, allowing a creature like no other to pass. He was unnaturally tall and thin, with long, spidery hands, and a bald, round head. His serpentine tongue flicked out into the air, tasting the fear of those around him. His eyes were red, the same color that the moon had turned._

_Harry hadn't turned though. He was still looking at Wyatt with that nearly unreadable look. The creature with red eyes lifted a wooden stick, pointing it at Harry._ "Avada Kedavra!"_ the creature called, but his lips didn't move; his mouth didn't open. A green light shot out of his wand, absorbing Harry, who still hadn't turned. When the light passed, Harry was no longer standing, but lying, crumpled, on the ground, his eyes still on Wyatt._ "No! Harry!"

_All around them, the battle had stopped. Everyone stared. The creature leaned down and lifted the wand that Harry still clutched in his hand, holding it high in the air as Arthur had held Excalibur when he had pulled it free from the stone. "I have won!" he cried, although his mouth was still closed. "The world is mine!"_

"Wyatt!"

* * *

**Updated on: January 26, 2005.**


	2. C1: Darren or Dave?

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** R

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** A Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. There are some things that Wyatt left out of his recount, however, and things are being put into motion now that the Halliwells have arrived. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that would not be stopped.

**Chapter 1: Darren or Dave?**

* * *

When Wyatt Halliwell jolted awake, he heard a loud ripping sound, and looked down to see that he was cocooned in his sheet, which he had unintentionally torn. His blanket, which had a tendency to end up lying on the floor when he awoke in the mornings, was draped across the end of his bed, spilling onto the floor. Sighing explosively to blow his long bangs out from where they had gathered in the corners of his eyes, he methodically began to unwind himself from his tangled sheet. When he was done, he held it up and stared critically at it, groaning when he saw the large rip in the fabric that he had accidentally caused. He would have to ask his mother to sew it up for him; it wouldn't be the first time he had asked her.

Wyatt had a habit of trashing around when he had a nightmare, which was a fairly common occurrence. Almost nightly, he was assaulted with visions of the past, present, and future. It was all very taxing, and more than a little annoying, as he had never had a single premonition in his life when he was awake. His Aunt Phoebe and his younger cousin, Paris, were the only ones in his family to have ever had the power of premonition, not including the times when the Halliwells switched powers for one reason or another.

Tiredly, Wyatt threw his sheet down onto his bed, resolving to show it to his mother later on during the day. Since he figured that he had a least a couple of hours to himself in order to sort through his vision before the rest of his family awoke, he was mildly surprised when he looked at his alarm clock, which sat innocently (at least for the rest of summer, it would) on his bedside table, and saw that the flashing red numbers showed that it was already a quarter past nine in the morning. If he wasn't downstairs soon, his mother would send up his younger brother, Chris, to shake him awake, as she usually did.

He stood up and stretched. While his brother resembled his father in the sense that he was stocky and somewhat brawny in build, Wyatt mostly resembled the woman in his family, in the sense that he was tall and slender, with a delicate build and a fair complexion. However, anyone that had ever been on Wyatt's bad side would tell you that he was the exact opposite of delicate, as far as they were concerned.

Yawning, Wyatt prepared to leave his bedroom by pulling on a pair of dark gray, drawstring sweatpants that had been hanging over a random chair. Usually, he slept only in a pair of boxers, unless he had been too tired the night before to remove his clothing. He had only begun wearing very little to bed two years ago, when he had started waking up, covered in sweat.

He threw his bedroom door open and was immediately overcome by the smell of his mother's delicious, homemade pancakes. Although she had given up on her dream of owning her own restaurant many years ago, Piper Halliwell still loved to cook for her friends and family. Wyatt knew that, in a way, the sight of a clean, welcoming kitchen, and the scent of baking foods calmed his mother down. She would have been a great cook, _bringing homemade brownies to the masses_, as his father often affectionately joked about it.

Wyatt and the rest of his family were quite happy keeping her exceptional cooking skills to themselves, however. Barefoot, he padded downstairs and into the kitchen. He was unsurprised to see that his aunt, Phoebe, sat at the kitchen table, munching on some pancakes alongside her twin daughters, Prudence and Paris. At meal-times, Phoebe Halliwell-Dean could usually be found in the kitchen of her old home. Phoebe had moved out of the Manor with her husband, Jason, just after they had been married, and into an apartment not too far away from the Victorian Manor that she had grown up in. Wyatt's other aunt, Paige, still lived with her sister, brother-in-law, and nephews. However, this morning Paige was nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning, Wyatt," Prue and Paris intoned cheerfully in unison. The sound of his name caused both his brother, who had been making a detailed replica of his home out of pancakes, syrup, and bacon, and his mother, who stood over the stove, look up. Piper smiled at her son, but Wyatt didn't smile back, his eyes trained on the deep red highlights in her longish hair. Strangely, he had forgotten about his vision up until this moment. Now, it all came rushing back.

Her smile soon faded into an alarmed frown when his face drained completely of color. "Is something wrong, sweetie?" she asked worriedly, abandoning the pancakes to rush over to her son's side. Wyatt shook his head, paused, nodded, then paused again and shrugged, clearly unable to make up his mind. Frowning in worry, Piper grabbed Wyatt's shoulders and steered her son over to an empty seat at the table where Phoebe, Paris, Prue, and Chris already sat. "What is it, honey?"

Usually, Wyatt found his mother's use of, in his opinion, derogatory titles such as 'sweetie' and 'honey' annoying, but today, all he could think about was of how, in his vision, she had been dying, and that he hadn't been able to get to her. _A red moon means the death of someone that you know._ Shaking his head to clear it of the assaulting image of his mother with a dagger sticking out of her chest, he looked up to see that everyone was staring at him, clearly alarmed.

"I had another nightmare," Wyatt said, "but it was a vision of the future, I think," he added.

"What did you see?" questioned Phoebe. They were all used to the fact that Wyatt had scores of visions in his sleep, and didn't waste time questioning him about his lack of power in the premonition department, as they had the first few times he had told them of his 'dream' visions. "Was it bad?"

"I'm not sure what I saw," said Wyatt with difficulty. He wasn't sure how to explain his vision. When it came to some of what he had seen, he wasn't even sure that he wanted to discuss it at all. At the thought of the way the young man, _Harry_, had been looking at him, he flushed bright red, and he quickly, in order to distract his family from his adverse reaction, said, "There was a battle. A lot of people were fighting... but more of them were dying."

Prue and Paris gasped simultaneously. They were both leaning over their pancakes, apparently unaware of how they were smearing maple syrup all over their blouses, and staring at him with wide, gray eyes. "Who was dying, Wyatt?" Piper asked, rubbing his back comfortingly. She could tell that her son was greatly disturbed by what he had seen. She was also curious as to why he had blushed; usually, Wyatt was unflappable when it came to things that most other people would find excessively embarrassing.

Any color that had remained in his cheeks promptly drained. "You had been stabbed. Aunt Phoebe was already dead. I might have even seen Chris on the ground, but I was distracted," he said, trying to think back to what he had seen. He didn't see his mother and aunt exchange a look over his head, or Chris pale, but he did hear Prue and Paris cry out in alarm, as they clutched at one another, smearing the maple syrup between them. The twins were melodramatic at best. "I didn't see anyone else, except..."

"Who was it, Wyatt?" Phoebe asked, as Piper continued to rub Wyatt's back in a soothing manner.

"I've never met him before... I don't think I've ever seen him before, either," Wyatt said. He didn't appear to be speaking to anyone except for himself. "He was around my age. He was really sad. I think his name was Harry. He was staring at me." What else did he remember of his vision, other than the look that Harry had been giving him? _Harry. Harry dying._ "There was also a man," said Wyatt loudly, snapping back from his remembrance, "or at least, I think he was a man. He could have been a demon, like a snake-"

"It doesn't matter what he was, Wyatt," interrupted Piper, squeezing his shoulders slightly. "What happened?"

"Oh, right," said Wyatt, shaking his head. "He had a stick. I guess it was a wand, because he said something, a spell I suppose, and a green light came out of it. It hit Harry and he fell. He was dead. Then the man (he had red eyes) picked up Harry's wand and held it up, like it was some kind-of trophy. He said that he had won, and that the world was his. But it was weird..." Wyatt trailed off, his pale green eyes glittering in confusion.

"Why was it weird?" asked Phoebe.

"His lips never moved," said Wyatt slowly. "I know it was his voice (I've never heard anything like it before) but it was like he hadn't said it at all. Maybe it was magic? I don't know. I don't think it was. Or maybe I was imagining things. But his mouth didn't move when he said the spell, either, and Harry still died."

"What spell did he use?" asked Phoebe, trying to recall a spell that caused death. It was useless, however, as good witches didn't use spells to kill other human beings, and she had never had the chance to look through a spellbook that belonged to a bad witch. Therefore, she couldn't recall such a spell.

Wyatt didn't say anything for a few moments, a thoughtful look on his face. Then he nodded, as if answering a question. "It wasn't a spell like the ones we use," he said. "He said something like Avad Kedara or Avada Kedav-"

Before Wyatt could finish telling them the spell that had killed Harry, there was a small distraction in the form of three demons shimmering into the kitchen. Wyatt could immediately tell from their thoughts that they had been expecting three sleepy witches, and not six wide-awake Halliwells. Their blackened eyes widened in surprise when they suddenly found themselves staring at the seated Halliwells, who stared mutely back at them, just as surprised as they were.

Absorbed as they had been in Wyatt's tale, the six Halliwells hadn't expected demons to suddenly burst into their kitchen. They should have, of course, because they rarely went a day without some kind-of demonic presence baring down on them.

It was Piper who came to her senses first. She flicked her wrists at them, but all she managed to do was cause the three demons to fly backwards into the counter, knocking over pots and pans. One of the demons was knocked into the pancake pan and his clothes caught fire.

Prue and Paris were pulled out of the way of the screaming demon by Phoebe, who, with the help of Wyatt and Chris, overturned the table, ignoring Piper's cry of dismay as the plates and glasses previously on the table crashed to the floor, shattering and causing water and food to fly everywhere. The flaming demon continued to scream and flail around the room, until the flames finally consumed him, causing him to burst into dust and ash, which showered Wyatt and Phoebe, who sat closest to the end of the table.

Phoebe jumped up in surprise as the ash burned her, trying to knock off the sparks of flame, and was almost immediately hit in the abdomen with an enery ball. She was knocked back down, and hit her head on one of the table's legs; she fell to the floor, unconcious. Prue and Paris cried out, "Mom!" but were unable to help Phoebe, as Chris, under Piper's instruction, grabbed the identical girls and orbed them out of the room.

"Get Paige," Piper ordered Wyatt, who paused for only a second when Chris orbed back into the room, before nodding to their mother and orbing out. He followed their magical connection to his aunt.

To say that Paige was startled when Wyatt orbed into the house of her current boyfriend (she went through a lot of them) would be an understatement. Luckily, her boyfriend, Dan or Derek or something else with a 'D,' was in the bathroom, preparing a bath for the two of them. She pulled the sheet up hastily, covering her naked chest from Wyatt, who covered his eyes; despite the urgency of the situation, he automatically gagged, as any nephew was wont to do when faced with such a scene. "Covered up yet?" he asked, and Paige snapped, "Yes, what are you doing here?" Wyatt uncovered his eyes and quickly flicked his hand at the opening bathroom door, causing David or Dick or whatever his name was to freeze in place.

"Good, we're leaving," said Wyatt, and he grabbed Paige, sheet and all, and orbed them into the Halliwell kitchen, where he found that the table had been blasted to smithereens and that his mother, brother, and the two remaining demons were nowhere to be seen. "WE'RE IN THE ATTIC!" yelled Chris' voice from above them, as he sensed his brother's return. Paige had wrapped the blanket around herself, and was holding it to her chest with a single, fisted hand. She was shaking her free fist at Wyatt, her face turning slowly red in anger and embarrassment. Wyatt only grabbed her flailing hand and orbed them once more.

"What is going on?" Paige exlaimed. They now stood behind the sofa where Phoebe's prone body rested, and Paris and Prue sat, clutching eachother tightly. There was a nearly-deafening crash as a chair smacked into the wall just above their heads, and they all ducked as they were showered with splinters, Paris and Prue covering their mother with their own bodies. "Oh. Demons," said Paige, shocked. She jumped into action when Chris let out a cry, and Wyatt looked over the sofa to see Chris clutching his chest, where he had been hit with an energy ball.

Wyatt, using his power of telekinesis, orbed his brother out of the way of a second energy ball, which would have most likely finished him off, and to the sofa. Before Chris could protest, he pried Chris' hands away from his blackened wound, and, blocking the sight from Paris and Prue, he held his hands over it. Slowly, the skin healed, and his t-shirt was mended. When Wyatt was sure that Chris would be okay, he raced over to his mother and aunt.

Piper was holding off a barrage of energy balls by freezing them; there were at least a dozen of them prone in front of her, and frozen in a way that could have been suggestive of a shield. "We need a spell, now," Paige cried, deflecting several energy balls with her own telekinetic power.

"Not enough time," said Wyatt quickly, as a single, high voltage energy ball shattered his mother's shield. There was a rush of wind and, in a shimmer of white light, the legendary sword of King Arthur appeared in Wyatt's outstretched hand. Wyatt rushed at the demons, this sword held high.

Clearly, a sword fight had been expected, for both of them simultaneously plucked two swords out of thin air. There was a shower of sparks as Excalibur met one of the demonic swords. Wyatt, using his telekinesis to rid the second demon of his sword, kicked the first one in the chest, spun around once, and cleanly severed the second demon's head from his neck.

The first demon had recovered, and now straightened up, batting away Wyatt's sword and reaching for his throat with his free hand. Wyatt had both hands around Excalibur's hilt, and was forced to duck away from the intended blow. As he ducked, he felt the demon's sword drag across the exposed flesh of his stomach. Sucking in a breath, he ignored the pain that blossomed in his abdomen and elbowed the demon in the back. He then turned, stabbing it in the back of the head. The demon burst into dust around the sword, which Wyatt dropped, hands flying to his stomach.

It was mere seconds before the cut healed itself; Wyatt was self-healing. It was a power that he hadn't been aware of until he had turned six, and had found that all his scraped knees disappeared before he had even managed to cry about them. As a child, it had been a delightful power to play with, as he found that he could disobey his mother by doing dangerous things and never having a bruise or cut or broken arm to show for it. As he had grown, it had come in handy in another way. He was able to protect his family, even when he was hurt, with the knowledge that the pain would disappear in just a few moments. There were some exceptions to the power, however. The poison of a dark-lighter could harm him, like it could harm anyone with whitelighter blood in them, and he wasn't safe from mortal sicknesses, as he had discovered when he had gotten pneumonia in the seventh grade.

"Are you okay?" Piper asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Wyatt, prodding at the newly healed skin of his lower belly. It was still a little tender to the touch, and he let his hand fall to his side. As Piper and Paige ventured over to the sofa in order to inspect the girls, Phoebe, and Chris, Wyatt banished Excalibur. It resided in the fairy kingdom and was protected by the powerful, pure magic of the fairies. Nobody except he could summon it or get to where it was hidden. At first, the entire family had been able to get to it, but after Piper had been possessed by a demonic spirit and taken hold of the sword, intending to use it for evil, they had revised the spell to only allow Wyatt to get to it, and only if he could pass through the screen of light magic that protected it.

"Wyatt, can you heal Phoebe?" Paige asked, glancing over the couch. Wyatt nodded and walked over to where his unconcious aunt lay, and brought his hand to her forehead. A soft golden light spread from where his fingers touched her skin, expanded over her bumped head, and then down past her face and neck to her chest, where the energy ball had struck her. Phoebe's eyes popped open as soon as Wyatt removed his hand, and she sat up with the help of Piper and Prue. Paige still clutched the sheet that covered her body. As soon as Phoebe was up, the youngest Charmed sister glanced at her older sisters and whined, "Can I go back to Dave's house now?"

"I thought his name was Darren," said Chris, who was always the one to remember odd, unimportant facts in weird, desperate situations. Paige shrugged. "Don't you think you should dump him if you don't even know his name?" Chris asked her, amused. Prue and Paris giggled, and Paige's sisters smiled at her. Paige shrugged again, half-sneered at the twins, and looked pleadingly at her sisters. Phoebe had started to say _yes_ when Piper shook her head.

Paige groaned, but Piper only frowned. "Wyatt had a vision. In it, Phoebe, Chris, and I were dead, or dying, and there was a demon there, killing people. There was someone named Harry involved, right, Wyatt?" To his own consternation, Wyatt blushed slightly when nodded. "Do you know how powerful this demon was, Wyatt?"

"Powerful for us to want to get involved," he mumbled. Piper nodded, looked at Paige and said, "You can go now. Make sure he doesn't see you." Paige rolled her eyes and disappeared. Piper then looked at her oldest son, and said, "I'm going to call your father. Maybe he can help us find this Harry person. Phoebe, Wyatt, stay. The rest of you, go clean up downstairs." The three youngest Halliwells groaned, but Piper just said in a slightly disparaging voice, "You ruined my table and my breakfast. The least you can do is clean it up."

"And turn off the stove before anything else goes up in flames," Wyatt added with a grin as Chris took Prue's and Paris's hands. Chris sneered at Wyatt, and then orbed the twins and himself out of the attic. Wyatt's grin disappeared when he looked back at his mother and aunt. Piper smiled reassuringly at him, and opened her mouth, calling out, "Leo! LEO!"

* * *

**Updated On: February 5, 2005**


	3. C2: Diagon Alley

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Ron/Hermione, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. However, nobody really knows what Wyatt saw except for him. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that could not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** Well, I meant to update yesterday, but I had no time to finish this chapter, as it was my birthday (I'm fifteen, yay!) and I was lounging in my godmother's pool an hour away from my computer. I've been working on it for almost a week, and I hope that it suffices. There isn't a lot of action, but I couldn't fit anything in. Sorry. It's the longest chapter I have ever written (and it's only seven and a half pages, how disappointing). I promise the next chapter will be better, and hopefully long, as well. Also, I didn't check it very well, so I'm positive that I missed a few errors. Please tell me where I messed up. And, as a birthday present, please review! I'm a little disappointed that only one person has reviewed (thank you, GothicLightning!). I don't know how long it'll be until my next update (school starts in exactly one week and I still haven't done my summer reading), so I apologize for any delay.

Now, onto the story!

* * *

"I still cannot believe," Piper said, her voice both seething and amazed, "that we have been fighting demons and _protecting_ these people from the forces of darkness for the past twenty years and you still didn't have the decency to tell us about that they existed! Even more, you felt the need to deny their existence when Wyatt had the first vision of this Voldemort character nearly two years ago! If you had have just let us handle it then, the bastard wouldn't have even returned from the dead!" Her words where punctuated by the sound of each and every piece of glass within ten feet shattering. Piper didn't even flinch, but Leo did.

Avoiding some flying glass, he held his hands up complacently. "I wanted to, believe me, sweetheart, I did!" the dark-haired man insisted, ducking when a vase flew over his head. Of course, it shattered against the wall behind him, but Piper didn't even seem to notice. It wasn't really important; she had picked it up on impulse at a garage sale when walking back from the grocery store about a year ago. "Piper, please, stop throwing things or blowing them up, and listen to me! I wanted to tell you about Voldemort, I did, but the elders wouldn't let me. They told me that something important was expected to happen, but it could only happen if Voldemort was allowed to ressurect himself!"

"And what, pray tell, was this important thing that was expected to happen?" Piper asked in a vicious snarl, clearly believing that Leo had made it up to save his own skin. It was a very rare thing for Piper to become angry, but when she was angry, she let everybody know it. She wasn't angry that she had to get involved in a battle that she could have stopped beforehand; she was angry that Leo had lied to her, and that because of his lie, she might die, along with her youngest son and her younger sister. She would _not_ let that happen. It seemed that Leo didn't understand her fears. "Don't you get it, Leo!? I don't care about something important that _might_ happen, I care about the fact that our _son_ had to witness my death at the hands of someone who shouldn't exist _in the first place_!" She puntuated it by throwing an antique plate that had belonged to her grandmother at Leo's head. 

Instead of allowing it to shatter, he caught it deftly just before it hit him in the face. It was an important part of his anatomy, of course. Piper seemed to be staring at another, much more important part of his anatomy, however, an odd gleam in her eyes. The fact that his enraged wife's hands were twitching did not comfort him in the slightest. "Look," he said, shuffling behind a couch and attracting Piper's attention back to his face. Her eye twitched. "This important thing will happen, but Voldemort had to exist so that it could. Without him, we never would have a reason to go to Hogwarts, and Wyatt-" he stopped abruptly. He wasn't supposed to reveal this tidbit of information to Piper, however much he wanted to. "It had to happen, Piper. And I assure you, I won't let you die, no matter what Wyatt saw. You, Chris, or Phoebe, or Paige, Paris, or Prue, _or_ Wyatt. I promise. None of you will die."

Piper lost whatever energy she had been running on, and collapsed into an armchair, her face in her hands. Leo followed, sitting slowly on the couch he had been hiding behind. Very slowly, she looked up at Leo, fixing him with a sligthly deflated glare. It was still effective, however. "You better make sure that I don't die and leave my sons alone, and that Phoebe doesn't die and leave the twins without their father _and_ mother. And if anyone in this family dies, I will find a way up to heaven, and kill every single elder responsible for allowing this to happen. This includes you." Leo nodded very quickly, glad that Piper had run out of steam, and sent a disgusted look to the heavens. And they had the gall to say that her reaction would be amusing! This was _not_ amusing!

"Uh, mom, are you done yelling at dad?" came Chris' unsure voice from the other room. "'Cause as long as their aren't any body parts floating around, I think you should come and see this." Piper and Leo exchanged a look, and then stood up from their respective seats and walked quickly into the kitchen. Their eyes widened at what they saw, although Leo had been expecting it. He hadn't been expecting the visit so soon, however, and not so quickly after Piper's firm reprimand.

Chris stood against the wall next to the doorway, a grim, amused look on his face. Paris and Prue, their long brown hair swinging as they bounced up and down in excitement and their gray eyes wide with amazement, were standing on either side of a tall man with long, flowing silver hair and a long, flowing silver beard. His bright blue eyes twinkled merrily over his half-moon glasses, and he smiled at Piper and Leo when they entered the room. "He just appeared out of nowhere," came another voice, and Piper and Leo glanced over to see Wyatt standing on the other side of the doorway, clad in leather pants and a tight black muscle shirt. Wyatt's eyes were full of amusement, if you could properly see his eyes behind all that eyeliner, that is. He noticed his parents looks and grinned, saying, "Demon business. Believe me, you don't want to know."

Both nodded without question, and looked back at their mysterious visiter, who was smiling at the small family as they conversed. "Albus Dumbledore," he introduced himself with a small bow and flourish, "Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I believe that we need to have a talk." He looked down at Paris and Prue, who were oogling over his odd watch, which hung off his dark purple robes, and added, his eyes twinkling with humor, "In private, if that's not a problem."

"Where'd you get this watch?" asked Paris suddenly, smiling up at Dumbledore. Although they were identical, you could tell them apart, if you knew them well enough to know it existed, because Paris had a small scar underneath her right ear that was shaped like a crescent moon. She also had lighter eyes than her sister, although you couldn't see this difference unless you looked at them both day in and day out, like the other Halliwells did.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "If you like it, young lady, you and your sister may keep it," he said, while pulling it out of his inside pocket and unhooking it from the front of his robes. "Just make sure that you share it," he added, handing it to Paris, who squealed in excitement. She and Prue quickly fled upstairs after thanking the man, clearly heading for one of the upstairs bedrooms. Wyatt and Chris looked at eachother soundlessly and Chris followed them almost immediately to make sure that they didn't touch any of his or Wyatt's stuff; he and Wyatt shared a bedroom.

"You didn't have to do that," said Piper. She knew that she should have been more suspicious of the man, at least until he had introduced himself, but there was something about the old wizard that was undeniably good and... fun. There was no way you could look at the cheerful old man and think him to be anything other than a kind-hearted wizard with good intentions and a pocketful of candies and goodies. In fact, at that moment, Dumbledore reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a bag of lemon drops. He smiled reassuringly at her, and said, "I have quite a few of them, Mrs. Wyatt."

"It's Halliwell," Piper corrected automatically. Dumbledore's bushy silver eyebrows rose, and he glanced at Leo, to see how the whitelighter was taking this. Leo smiled as Piper said, "I decided not to take my husband's name. The name Halliwell instills more fear in demons than the name Wyatt does." Wyatt made a loud noise of disagreement, but Piper brushed him off.

"Right then," the headmaster said brightly, before offering a lemon drop to both of Halliwells and Leo. Only Wyatt took one, and, after a careful sniff, he popped it into his mouth, chewing loudly. Dumbledore smiled.

It was then that Piper realized that he was still standing. She flushed slightly and said, "Would you like to take a seat, Mr. Dumbledore?" while gesturing at the table.

"Please, call me Albus," said Dumbledore, dropping gracefully into a chair. He shifted around in the wooden chair for a moment, and then stood again. As Piper, Leo, and Wyatt watched in confusion, he pulled a long stick out of his pocket and tapped the chair three times, whispering something under his breath. Immediately, the chair bloomed into a soft, chintzy armchair that was colored a bright, lemon yellow. He smiled at their expressions while he sat down again. Leo was the first to recover, and he said, "Wow! That's amazing. I've always been a fan of wizard magic. It's all very impressive. And difficult, too."

Wyatt snorted lightly and dropped into his chair, which immediately changed into an armchair matching that of Dumbledore's. At some point, the oldest Halliwell son had gotten rid of the make-up, although he was still garbed in leather. Both Piper and Leo looked scandalized, but Dumbledore only chuckled. "It's only fair," he explained to the two as they sat in their own, regular wooden chairs, shooting looks at their son. "I've always been fascinated with wiccan magic, as well. When Thomas (he's an elder friend of mine) told me that I would be getting the assistance of the famous Halliwells, I was very excited."

Piper would have flushed at the praise, but the wizard's comment brought into the discussion his reason for visiting. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes dimmed a little and his smile faded into a thoughtful frown. "Speaking of which, I was wondering - why enter the war when it doesn't affect you?" he asked, not unkindly, just curiously. "I must ask why you are putting yourselves in danger when it appears that you needn't worry at all."

Piper cleared her throat uncomfortably, but when she spoke, her voice was strong and even a little flippant. "We're all going to be affected by this war sooner or later, in some way or another. If it's good magic on the line, we don't really have a choice. Plus, I'm sure that Wyatt would like to get rid of his visions of this Voldemort guy." Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise and he looked at Wyatt, who raised both of his golden eyebrows, not believing that his mother had revealed that. He had, up until that moment, been lounging with his long legs thrown over the side of the chair. Now, he turned and fell solidly into his seat.

"Visions?" questioned the headmaster.

"It's nothing really," Wyatt supplied, cutting off his mother, who had opened her mouth to answer. "I have visions of the future, and the past and present, when I'm asleep. They're very intense and I've been having dreams of the final battle with Voldemort for over a week now. I'd like them to stop." He didn't add that one of his dreams certainly hadn't been about Voldemort, but instead about him and Harry. He also didn't mention that it hadn't been a vision, but a real dream. An _embarrassing_ dream, about someone that he didn't even know, except for seeing him in a few visions.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Wyatt in a way that said that he knew Wyatt was holding something back, but would let it go, for now. There was a promise in his eyes that he would find out later, however. Wyatt stared back stonily, his eyes betraying nothing. He didn't trust Dumbledore; yes, the man was kind and clearly had good intentions, but Wyatt had very little trust to share with anyone outside of his family. Plus, he could tell, by looking at Dumbledore, that the wizard was ready to sacrifice anything if it meant ending the war, including the ones he had promised to protect. It wasn't evil, just the truth. However, the light-haired Halliwell was a little peeved that Dumbledore was protecting his deeper thoughts, and that any further prodding into his mind would alert the headmaster to what he was doing. 

Wyatt snapped out of his daze when he realized that his father was speaking. "...but how exactly are we supposed to just show up in the castle? Unless we're doing something to look busy, the students will be suspicious of us, and I doubt that Voldemort will not learn about three mysterious women and a mysterious man roaming the castle, and four students popping up from America out of nowhere and without warning." Piper was, by now, frowning. Wyatt listened intently as Dumbledore began speaking, the twinkle in his eyes returning in full force.

"Ah, yes, I had thought about that, and I believe that I've come to a solution that you will all accept," the headmaster said, smiling brilliantly, all previous seriousness forgotten. They would have to talk in detail about Voldemort later, but now wasn't the time. As long as they were ready to put themselves into the middle of the war, they were prepared for anything Dumbledore would tell them about the conniving Dark Lord. "I expect that there will be more accidents and fights than ever now that Voldemort has surfaced and the students can show their true colors, which means that Madam Pomfrey, our mediwitch, will be swamped with work. I was hoping that you, Mr. Wyatt, wouldn't mind joining the staff as a mediwizard." Leo's eyes lit up. Wyatt almost laughed; Piper grinned. Leo looked like a kid in a candy store. "I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey won't mind teaching you the tricks of the trade, and you'll be able to handle the more serious injuries better than any mediwitch can." Leo nodded quickly, still smiling. 

"What about Paige, Phoebe, and I?" asked Piper when Dumbledore didn't immediately tell her what she and her sisters would be doing to make themselves blend in better.

"Well, I hit a bit of a snag when it came to you three," Dumbledore said, a mysterious glint in his blue eyes. "You see, I have already filled the Defense Against the Dark Arts position with an old friend of mine, Remus Lupin. He previously taught the class, almost three years ago, but he had to leave at the end of the year because of the more untoleratant of people in the world."

"Was there something wrong with him?" asked Piper. "Not in the sense that you're thinking," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Remus is a werewolf. He's quite safe, I assure you," he continued when Piper's eyes widened, mistaking her expression. Wyatt nearly snorted. His mother had been a wendigo, the closest thing to a werewolf. She didn't care about something like that, as long as he stayed away from her on the full moon. As expected, Piper shook her head, saying, "I'm not worried about that. I just don't believe that he had to leave over a silly little thing like that!" Dumbledore looked pleasently surprised, and his smile widened. "It's an outrage. He's only dangerous once a month." 

"Sound familiar?" Wyatt told his father in a low tone, but unfortunately his mother heard and glared at him, while Leo tried valiantly not to laugh. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled madly.

Piper finally turned away and asked Dumbledore what that meant for the three Halliwell women. Dumbledore's smile became a smirk. Wyatt was momentarily surprised. How could _he_ smirk like _that_? The change was startling. "Yes. That. Well, I decided that I simply couldn't pass up the chance for my students to learn about real wiccan magic, so I added a new class to the curiculum for students fifth year and up - Wiccan Magic. I had hoped that you wouldn't mind taking the class."

"I wouldn't. Paige already teaches Spells at another school," Piper said thoughtfully, "but she's taken an indefinate leave of absence. The elders are handy for some things." She shot a glare at Leo, who seemed to wither. "She won't object to teaching. I'm not sure what Phoebe will say. She does still have the column to write, but I'm sure she can always e-mail it to her boss. I'm not sure what she'll think about teaching, though, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we have no objections." Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, Ms. Halliwell," he said, smiling at her. "I'm sure that you'll do a wonderful job. Now, as for the children, I assumed that we could just sort them into their houses during the sorting ceremony with the first years. We'll tell the students the truth - that they are the children of the new professors and have had a former magical education elsewhere." Piper nodded; it was true. Wyatt, Chris, Prue, and Paris all attended magic school, along with their regular school classes. It was a tight schedule, but the children managed to learn both magic and algebra. "Other than that, I assume we'll have to tell them that you are wiccan. Beyond that, I think we should keep everything else a secret that only a few people know." Piper nodded. "That sounds fine," she said, smiling. Although she wouldn't admit it to Leo, she was excited about going to Hogwarts, even if it meant that it might end in her untimely death. She knew that Leo would do anything to save her if it happened, and that Wyatt, with the knowledge that it was possible he might lose some of his family, would do anything to keep them safe. She was prepared to do everything to keep herself, her sister, and her son alive, too. 

Dumbledore's smile faded again after a moment. "I think now is the time to speak of Lord Voldemort. But if you don't mind, Mr. Halliwell, I don't think that you need to hear any of this." Wyatt looked a little put out, but Piper ordered him out of the room. She wasn't even sure why she had allowed him to be there in the first place. Wyatt sulked as he walked upstairs, and tried to invade his father's mind to hear what Dumbledore was saying, but Leo unceremoniously pushed him away.

"What happened?" asked Chris as soon as he entered their bedroom. Prue and Paris were playing with their gift on his unmade bed, and Chris was lounging on his own. As soon as the oldest Halliwell child entered the room, however, Paris flung the watch into the pocket of her jeans and the three younger Halliwells all jumped forward for details.

Wyatt gave them a superior smirk as he walked over to his closet, pulling off his shirt on the way. Paris and Prue shrieked in a very loud and false way, and covered their eyes with Wyatt's pillows. Chris rolled his eyes at their antics. As Wyatt rummaged around in his closet for something more approptiate to wear, he began to speak slowly. "Nothing much. Dad's going to help in the school hospital and our mom, Aunt Phoebe, and Aunt Paige are going to be teachers."

After laughing a little, Chris asked, "What about us, though?" 

"New students," said Wyatt vaguely as he pulled on a loose, white t-shirt. Just as Paris and Prue deemed it safe to uncover their eyes, Wyatt began to peel off his leather pants. This time, they really shrieked, and instead of covering their eyes, they hopped up and ran from their cousins' bedroom. As they reached the door, Dumbledore's watch fell from Paris' jeans, but she didn't seem to notice as she followed her sister from the room. Chris wandered over to it as Wyatt pulled on the same pair of black sweatpants he had worn nearly a week ago when he had told his mother about his vision, sighing when he felt blood pulse through his legs and feet for the first time in nearly two hours. With a dismissive flick of his hand, the watch disappeared from the floor in a burst of orbs just as a curious Chris reached down to pick it up. Seconds later, Paris and Prue cried out in surprise as their watch threw itself at them.

A few minutes later, the two brothers heard the sound of their mother calling for them and their younger cousins. "Wyatt! Chris! Paris! Prue! Get down here! We have a surprise for you!"

The two brothers looked at eachother and then quickly fled the room, reaching the kitchen just behind Prue and Paris, who seemed to have forgotten their earlier embarrassement and were smiling widely at the thought of a surprise from Piper and Leo. Said witch and whitelighter grinned at their children and neices when they burst into the kitchen, identical looks of excitement on their faces. The Hogwarts Headmaster had disappeared, but there was a small, dark purple bag of velvet sitting, open, on the table, showing off the white, glittering powder that it held. "What's that?" asked Wyatt automatically, sensing the magical power of the powder. He was able to determine that it would transport them somewhere, somehow, but was stumped as to it's exact purpose.

"Floo powder," answered Leo, picking up the bag and inspecting it, before he exchanged a meaningful look with his wife of nearly twenty years. At this moment, they heard the front door open, and Paris and Prue scampered off as the voice of their mother floated into the kitchen. "What does it do?" asked Chris as the twins disappeared from the room, walking over to his parents and inspecting the powder for himself. Piper opened her mouth to answer, but Phoebe entered the kitchen with Paris and Prue at that moment, asking, "What's this I hear about Merlin appearing?" while raising both her eyebrows. 

Immediately after, Wyatt and Chris burst into hysterical laughter, and even Piper and Leo had to grin. Piper explained to her sister that it hadn't been Merlin, but the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; she gave her sister a clipped recap of what she, Leo, and the Headmaster had talked about just minutes before, and then revealed that they would be teaching at the school in less than three days, on the September 1st. Phoebe appeared shocked at the news, but didn't object to it. "At least I'll get to show the kids how to kick some demon butt if they lose their wands," she commented, before questioning Piper about the powder in the bag that Chris was now holding onto.

Piper took it from her son and handed it to Phoebe, telling her that it was floo powder. At Phoebe's bewildered look, she explained, "We're supposed to use it to get to the Leaky Cauldron, which is a bar-"

"Pub," interrupted Leo. "The English call bars 'pubs,' Piper."

Piper shot him a withering look, but corrected herself anyway, "-a _pub_ in London. Once we get there, we are to ask for directions to Diagon Alley, where we will buy the kids their school supplies, as written in these letters." As she said it, she pulled four pieces of folded up, yellowed paper that was thicker than what they were used to from the front of her blouse where she had hidden them, split them up, and handed them to their rightful owners.

After exchanging looks with his brother and cousins, Wyatt was the first to unfold his letter. His pale eyes whizzed across the paper once, and then twice, before he said, "This won't come cheap." Piper snatched the letter from him - she hadn't bothered to read it over, first, and glanced over it, before she smiled. "_Now_ I understand what he meant." At Wyatt and Phoebe's confused looks, she elaborated. "Albus told us that he already had most of the supplies for the kids, and that we only needed to get them their robes and wands for school." At this, Wyatt sputtered. "I don't need a wand to do magic! It'll probably only get in the way!" 

Piper leveled him with a stern glare. "The students will know that we are wiccans, but Dumbledore requested that the four of you use wands to lessen the chance of being discovered as anything more than ordinary witches. Besides, he said that wiccans can't cast spells like wizards without a wand." Wyatt still looked affronted, and opened his mouth to speak, but Piper continued, "And he was telling the truth. I tried to cast one of the spells, but it was impossible to do. You can try if you don't believe me. Look at something and say 'Wingardium Leviosa.' You can point at it if you think it'll help."

Wyatt tried to do the spell, failed, tried again, and failed again. After trying and failing for a third time, he settled on crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at nothing and nobody in particular. Leo rolled his eyes and scuffed his son lightly across the head. "You'll think differently about wands when you actually have one, trust me," he informed his oldest son. Wyatt didn't respond.

"When are we going?" Prue finally burst out.

Piper smiled. "Now, if Phoebe's ready." Phoebe nodded, and then paused, a thoughtful frown on her face. "What about Paige?" she asked. As she said it, however, Paige orbed into the room, a resigned look on her face, and said, "Let's get this over with." Piper looked unsure of what to make of her sisters lack of excitement. She herself was very excited - it wasn't everyday that you get invited to spend a year or more in a school of witchcraft and wizardry. "Is something wrong, Paige?" Phoebe asked. "And how do you know where we're going?"

"To answer your first question, no, nothing is wrong," said Paige, "other than the fact that I'm going to miss my job. And secondly, I know because I was listening in on the conversation via Leo." Leo nodded to confirm what she had said; he had felt Paige's presence in his mind as the youngest Charmed sister eavesdropped on his and Piper's conversation with Dumbledore. Piper nodded, patting her sister on the back to comfort her. Phoebe shrugged and then smiled, looking rather excited herself.

"Well, now that that's taken care of, whats say we get moving?" she asked. Piper led her sisters, husband, children, and neices into the livingroom. "Now, how does Floo Powder work, exactly?" Phoebe asked. Instead of answering, Leo moved the grate away from the fireplace, which was already set up for a fire. Piper spouted off a spell she had been working on for the last few minutes, and immediately, a warm, blazing fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace. "Uh, Piper? What are you doing?" 

"I'll go first, and then the rest of you can follow me. Make sure not to breath in any ash, and please, don't say it wrong, or else you'll end up in the wrong place, especially you four," Leo said, looking at Piper and the Halliwell-Deans. Piper only rolled her eyes in response, while the latter three stared at him in confusion. Leo took a handful of the glittering powder and threw it into the flames, which roared emerald green. As they did, he stepped into the fireplace. Chris, Paris, Prue, Phoebe, and Paige cried out in surprise, and Wyatt took a few steps forward, only to be stopped by Piper, who was smiling. Leo grinned at them from his place amongst the flames, and cried out, "The Leaky Cauldron!" There was a rush of ash and flames, and the Leo disappeared from view.

Paris and Prue looked excited, and the two jumped up as one. "Only one at a time," said Piper as they took generous amounts of floo powder. Without speaking, Prue took a step back and let Paris through first. The small girl threw her handful of powder into the flames, and then hopped in, shivering at the sudden, pleasent warmth. "The Leaky Cauldron!" she cried out clearly. Prue went next, followed by Phoebe, Paige, and then Chris. Finally, only Piper and Wyatt were left in the livingroom.

Piper held out the bag of floo powder, but Wyatt shook his head, saying, "You go first, mom. I can put out the fire as I go." Shrugging, Piper handed the small bag over to him, taking a small amount for herself, and tossed it into the flames. She walked into the fireplace and yelled out, "The Leaky Cauldron!" As soon as she disappeared, Wyatt dumped the last little bit of floo powder left into the flames, and then hopped in. The flames were pleasently warm against his skin and he shivered in pleasureas Paris had. "The Leaky Cauldron!" he yelled out, using a short, yet effective spell to put out the flames just before disappearing from view.

Wyatt sneezed and coughed as he inhaled a rather large amount of ashes. He closed his eyes as the ashes floated into his eyes just after his livingroom disappeared from sight, and so he only saw a few other fireplaces and livingrooms and studies in vague, undetailed flashes before all he saw was the darkness, interrupted a couple of times by bursts of ligh,t behind his eyelids.

His eyes popped open, however, when the roar of rushing wind stopped. Immediately, despite his attempts to remain upright, he felt himself loosing the battle with gravity and fell unceremoniously to the floor just outside the grate. He looked around dizzily as his father helped him to stand, to see that he was standing in what appeared to be a large, smoke-filled pub that smelled of tobacco and alcohol. He winced as a flood of emotions passed through his weakened barriers, and started laughing before he stopped abruptly, pulling himself under control. Phoebe was blushing, which meant she had recently had the same problem, and Paris, the only other empath in the family, was still laughing hysterically, despite Paige and Phoebe's attempts to calm her down.

Finally, disconcerted by the looks that her laughter was drawing, Wyatt put a clamp down on her empathy power, and she stopped as suddenly as he had, still smiling brightly despite her earlier episode. It was then, when looking at his family, that Wyatt realized that, like them, he was probably covered in ashes, and looked down to discoverer that this was true. Disgusted, he shook himself virgorously, brushing off the ashes as best he could without magic-ing them away.

He moved away from the grate as other people fell through, and followed his mother as she led the family to the bar. Once they had reached it, the bartender, a toothless man who knew many years, cast his curious gaze upon them. "Can you show us to where we can find Diagon Alley, please?" Piper asked politely. The bartender nodded, smiling and introducing himself as Tom, and then led them through a door that led into a small courtyard. Once they reached it, Piper asked, "Where to now?"

Tom chuckled and pulled a wand from the folds of his black robes. He brought it up and tapped a brick three times with the point. The brick he had touched quivered. The bricks rapidly moved to the side until they were facing an archway that led onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. Each of the Halliwells were gaping by now. Wyatt was the first to regain composure, doing so by pinching himself on the arm. Tom smiled at their looks and pointed into the street, "This is Diagon Alley. Happy shopping."

Tom left them at this point and the family stepped through the archway. Wyatt looked around in amazement, not noticing how the archway instantly moved back into a solid wall behind him. The sun shone brightly, glimmering off the stoned street and a large, dazzling white building with burnished bronze doors. Leo quickly hurried off into the building, mumbling something about wizarding money, and leaving his wife, sisters-in-law, children, and nieces to gape at the street that had appeared.

Wyatt rapidly looked this way and that, his pale eyes glancing at every store before moving to the next one. Soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys around his age and younger were pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "The new Lightning Bolt - fastest broom ever-" Wyatt listened to one around his age with red hair, freckles, and an awed look say, "-I could never afford this!"

Wyatt dismissed a pile of gleaming cauldrons, as he saw one of these everyday, in front of one shop and looked at a small shop at the very end of the alley with a sign saying Gringotts: Makers of Fine Wands sine 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. Before Wyatt could examine the alley any further, his father came back. His face was slightly green and he had a very windswept look about him. He held out a small, bulky bag to Wyatt, grinning. "I figured you'd want to get something, so I turned your birthday money into galleons."

"Why don't I get any money, dad?" asked Chris, looking extremely put out. Piper rolled her eyes and answered, "You should have saved your money like Wyatt did." As Chris began to complain that he would have if he had known that they would be coming here years ago, Wyatt locked eyes on the broomstick sitting in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, a gleam in his pale eyes. He _had_ to have that broom, even though he didn't know when he would be able to use it. As he started walking towards the shop, however, his mother grabbed him and dragged him and Chris off to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Wyatt tried not to shift as a young witch with bright purple hair measured him for his school robes, and glanced over at Chris, who stood on a stool next to him, to see that he was figthing (and losing) the same battle. He didn't even notice when the witch poked him in the shin with a pin, but when her eyes widened in surprise, he looked down and asked, "What's wrong?" She stuttered that nothing was wrong, trying not to stare at the skin that had healed over almost immediately after she had poked him, leaving a small drop of blood glimmering on his unblemished skin, which she hurriedly wiped away.

Once the witch had finished measuring him and Paris had stepped up to be measured, he was about to head over to wait with his mother and aunts when a rack of robes caught his attention. Piper noticed him looking at them as he neared and said, "You can pick out one. Dumbledore said you'd need a set of dress robes. They're hosting some kind of dance for forth years and up..." she trailed off when she realized that Wyatt had already disappeared.

Wyatt looked through the rack for a few minutes before settling on a pair of very dark purple dress robes with silver trimmings. An old, squat witch with a square jaw hovering near him grinned at his selection and said, "Nice choice, sonny! Those robes will bring out that hair of yours. I've never seen such a fashionable young man. And so pretty, too. Girls must drop themselves at your feet." Wyatt glared when Chris, who was boredly glancing through the robes, looking for a pair of plain black ones, looked up at him, smirking in amusement, his eyes glittering.

"He wouldn't notice," he informed the witch, grinning. "He'd be too busy staring at their boyfriends." Immediately, the dark-haired teen was hit in the face with a pair of frilly, pink robes. He pulled them off his head as the witch left him and Wyatt alone, a confused look on her face, and then blushed when a girl with fiery red hair standing opposite him stared at him, her eyebrows raised as she looked at the robes he was holding against his chest, as if asking how they would look on him. "They would look very... pretty on you," she informed him, before walking away.

Scowling, he threw them back at Wyatt, who caught them and tossed them back into the rack, still glaring. "There's no need to get so worked up about it. Nobody cares if you're gay," he said, picking a pair of ridiculously large black robes from the rack.

"Just shut up about it, already," Wyatt hissed. "I have no idea why I told you but if you keep dropping hints about it mom and dad will figure it out before I have a chance to see if they'd be okay with it." He ripped the robes that Chris was holding from his grip and tossed a set of dark green ones at him, which brought out the lighter, blueish-green of his eyes. "These are better," he said absently, checking the size on the tag.

Chris rolled his eyes. "You know that mom and dad won't care about who you're with as long as you're happy. Besides, I'm sure that mom knows already." Wyatt snapped around, staring at him with wide eyes. Chris grinned. "She always says how she only wants you to be happy, and then she looks at you with these big eyes that say 'tell me and I promise it'll be okay.' You know, for someone who always sees what he needs to, you're blind when it comes to what's right in front of your eyes."

A few minutes later, Leo led Piper, Phoebe, Paige, Wyatt, Chris, Paris, and Prue into the wand shop. A tinkling bell rang somewhere as they stepped inside. It was tiny, and empty except for a single chair that looked highly unsafe. Wyatt looked around and felt as if he had just entered a very strict library. He looked around, at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly up to the ceiling. The shop tingled with magic, making him shiver unconciously.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice said, and each of the Halliwells, except for Wyatt, who had felt the presence of the speaker, jumped, turning. An old man with wide, pale eyes that shone like moons was standing before them, smiling in a very eerie way.

"Hello," said Leo. After a moment of silence, he mumbled, "The kids need wands."

The man looked a little surprised. "What an odd age to purchase your first wand at," he said softly, his voice echoing throughout the small shop as he glanced at the four Halliwell children. The man seemed to snap out of something, and smiled again. "Well, I'm Mr. Ollivander."

"I'm Leo Wyatt," said Leo, "and this is my wife, Piper Halliwell, and our children, Wyatt and Chris." "I'm Paige Matthews," Paige introduced herself before Leo could introduce herself for her, sniffling a little and sneezing. She refrained from asking why the man didn't clean his shop, but Wyatt could tell that she was itching to do so. 

"I'm Phoebe Halliwell-Dean," said Phoebe, "and these are my daughters, Paris and Prue."

The man nodded, looking pleased. "Yes, yes. I remember now. Albus told me that you would be coming sometime soon. I did not expect you so soon, however!" Leo smiled at him. "Well, who will be going first?" Paris volunteered. "Let me see." Ollivander pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand hand?"

"Uh... I'm right-handed," said Paris unsurely. Ollivander nodded.

"Hold out your arm." He measured Paris from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Halliwell-Dean. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons." Here he paused, a secretive gleam in his eyes, before speaking again. "No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another witch's wand."

Paris suddenly cried out in alarm when she saw that the tape measure, which was currently measuring the length of her kneecap, was doing it on its own. Mr. Ollivander smiled at her reassuringly while taking boxes down from the shelves. "That will do," he said, and the tap measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Miss Halliwell-Dean. Try this one. Ebony and unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches." Paris took the wand. "Well, go on. Give it a wave!" 

Paris smiled and waved the wand. She immediately let out a shriek when every single piece of glass in the room shattered defeaningly. Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand back from her. "No, no. That won't do. Try this one - beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches." Paris, frowning now, hesitantly took the wand and waved it; papers blew around the room, and Wyatt had to duck to avoid being hit by a wad of rolled up newspaper.

"Hmm, guess not," Mr. Ollivander did not appear to be disappointed. In fact, he was smiling. "Well, how about this? Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches." Paris took the wand and gasped when a stream of silver and gold sparks shot out of the end. Ollivander was clapping. "Perfect, perfect. That was very simple." He took the wand and placed it back into its box, before wrapping it in brown paper. Paris smiled as she took it in her hands.

Prue rushed forward to go next. After being measured, Ollivander held out a wand for her to try. "Mahogany and dragon heartstring, eleven inches." Prue waved it vigorously, using her right hand, and twirled around when her mother shrieked. Phoebe was floating near the ceiling, and clearly had not levitated herself there. Very quickly, Prue dropped the wand, and Phoebe fell from the ceiling. Ollivander held up his own wand and she slowed, hitting the floor very softly. "Sorry, mommy." Phoebe only rolled her eyes, sighing, as Piper and Paige helped her to stand upright.

"Yew and phoenix feather, nine inches." Prue took the wand, sheepishly, and waved it carefully. The few wands that had been rejected jumped up and starting dancing, intending to poke Mr. Ollivander in the eye. He snatched the wand back, but not before being poked in the nose. "Ah, well. Try this, Miss Halliwell-Dean. Hornbeam and phoenix feather, ten and a quarter inches." Prue took the wand and smiled brightly as blue and red lights burst out of it. "Perfect, perfect. And on your third try, too!" Ollivander wrapped the wand and handed it to Prue, who sprinted over to her sister.

Chris took a few steps forward when Wyatt shot him a look. After he was measured, Ollivander handed him a dark wand, saying, "Holly and unicorn hair, eleven inches." Chris took it; he appeared excited and only sligthly disappointed that he couldn't blow something up and get away with it when a stream of white and gold sparks shot out of the end. "Wow! This is my lucky day!" Ollivander wrapped the wand up and handed it to Chris.

"Which is your wand hand?" Ollivander asked.

Wyatt shrugged. "Both, I suppose. I can write with both hands." Ollivander seemed surprised. "Is there something wrong with that?" Ollivander shook his head, smiling faintly. The tape measure began to measure Wyatt. Wyatt tried to follow its progress but lost track of it when it measured the distance between his nostrils. Once Ollivander barked for it to stop, he handed a wand to Wyatt, smiling. "Ebony and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches." As soon as Wyatt touched the wand, a loud explosion echoed through the room as the wand was blasted in the other direction. Ollivander followed its graceful arch until it landed on top of the very highest shelf and said, "I guess not."

Wyatt didn't find a wand as easily as his brother and cousins did. An hour later, the pile of wands was nearly as large as Paris and Prue were, and his arms were getting tired from all the waving. Ollivander had appeared happy at first, but now, he only appeared confused and a little disappointed. "Hmm. I wonder..." Ollivander suddenly appeared to come to a conclusion and quickly disappeared behind the stacks. Wyatt glanced at his father, but Leo only shrugged, clearly as confused as he was. Ollivander came back with a dusty box, smiling mysteriously again. "I should have let you try this wand first. I sensed a great amount of power and good magic coming from you." Wyatt just stared. Ollivander uncovered the wand and handed it to him carefully.

Wyatt took the wand and immediately felt a rush of warmth. He waved the wand a little and a shower of red and white sparks shot into the air, doing a quick dance around him before disappearing in wisps of smoke. Ollivander looked delighted. "I knew it!"

"About time, too," said Chris, just as his stomach growled loudly. Paris and Prue giggled, clapping. At Wyatt's curious look, Ollivander said, "Willow. Thirteen inches with a combined core of unicorn hair, dragon whisker, and griffin feather. This wand is very unique. It combines light and dark with truth and honesty. My great, great grandfather made it more than five hundred years ago, as a little experiment to see how powerful a wand he could make, but there was never a witch or wizard that could control it. This is a very special wand. You must be extremely powerful, Mr. Halliwell." Wyatt shrugged, uncomfortable with the look that Ollivander was giving him. 

Mr. Ollivander wrapped his wand in brown paper as his father paid for his, Chris', Paris', and Prue's wands. A few minutes later, they were sitting outside of a small ice-cream shop. The sun was setting, and there were very little people walking around compared to the number of people that had been shopping earlier that afternoon. Wyatt looked up from his chocolate sundae and immediately caught sight of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and the Lightning Bolt in the window. "I'll be right back," he told his mother, before abandoning his sundae and sprinting to the store.

When he came back twenty minutes later, he held a long, thin package in his arms and sported a bright, mysterious smile. "What is it?" asked Chris eagerly.  
  
"You'll see," said Wyatt, his voice just as mysterious as his smile as he dropped into his seat and laid the package carefully across his lap. Brushing off the curious gazes of his relatives, he slowly finished his sundae, still smiling. None of the Halliwells were aware of a small, fat gray rat with an odd silver paw and a tattered ear as it squeaked and scurried away from under their table and down another alley.

* * *

To my loyal reader(s) and reviewer(s):

_GothicLightning_: Wow. I can't believe that you think this is a brilliant story. Thank you for reviewing and I hope that you continue to enjoy Reaching for the Red Moon. I'll try and keep updating often, but now that school is starting, I know it will be difficult. Thank you again!

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please review!** I'm trying not to pull my hair out, because this is the first story I have written (posted) that I'm really into. I've been thinking about writing it for a couple of months, now, and I finally decided to give it a try after I had a dream similar to Wyatt's vision about a month ago. I understand that you may not like my story, but if you don't, please drop a flame, telling me what's wrong with it, even if it means insulting me. Do not tell me that it sucks, and then not give a reason. And, if you are going to complain about slash, don't bother, because _I_ won't bother dignifying your comment with a response. I already warned you that it was slash and that said slash involved Harry Potter and Wyatt Halliwell, so please leave this out of your review/flame, unless to say that I am original. A girl can dream...


	4. C3: The Hogwarts Express

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. However, nobody really knows what Wyatt saw except for him. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that could not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** I'm going to try and keep this short. I haven't updated in a while, but I couldn't think of anything to write. Sorry! The new season of Charmed has started, and I want to make a few things completely clear - Paige is not the principal of Magic School in my story, just a teacher, although she does help to run the school along with the other teachers. Secondly, Leo is still an Elder, but he spends a lot of time on Earth, and is still his the sisters' whitelighter, although not in any official capacity. Thirdly, Jason and Phoebe reconciled, but Jason was killed by demons when the twins were toddlers, and Phoebe hasn't been with anyone since. Leslie does not exist and never did exist. Other than that, you may notice some inconsistencies in _Reaching for the Red Moon_, and I would like to apologize beforehand. I am trying to keep out anything from season seven, but I might include a few things, like some of the sisters' exploits (Phoebe as Lady Godiva, etc.), but I will not make any major changes to the story to make it fit in with season seven. Again, I apologize for the delay. Here is chapter three; enjoy it, I worked very hard!

"You don't think that we're supposed to tap the bricks like Tom did for us to get to Diagon Alley, do you?" Chris asked his mother, who was running her hands over the barrier between platforms nine and ten in King's Cross Station. It had been three days since their trip to Diagon Alley, and during that time, the Halliwell family had been in a state of serious nervousness and discord. Wyatt, who stood near Chris and looked handsomely disheveled with his hair sticking up in certain places, was sure that if his mother had seen the state of disarray that Chris and he had left their room in, she would surely have a stroke.

They were running late as it was; Piper, the day before, had told the family that she wanted to get the kids onto the train and be at the school at half past ten, but, unfortunately, for some mysterious reason, her alarm clock had not gone off at twelve in the morning like it was supposed to, but at one, leaving the family with only an hour to prepare. This had resulted in general chaos, which had led to Wyatt freezing Darren so that Paige could use his shower without his knowledge, Phoebe, Paris, and Prue returning home to get ready, (they had spent the night in the Manor), and Leo and Piper showering together, despite the gagging of their sons. Chris had nearly fallen asleep in the shower, and hadn't left the bathroom until fifteen minutes before they were to leave, which had meant that Wyatt had only had time to throw on his clothes after his shower, and had completely forgotten to brush his hair, although he had fortunately remembered to brush his teeth. This of course meant that Wyatt was extremely disgruntled. Not only were his clothes wrinkled, but his hair was also a mess.

Paris and Prue were the only Halliwells that appeared completely awake; Paige, who was definitely the least excited, was nearly asleep. Phoebe was yawning constantly and rubbing her eyes every five or so minutes, which resulted in the skin around them appearing red and inflamed. Piper was more awake than her sisters, but she still appeared tired, which might have been why she didn't think about tapping the bricks in the first place. Leo had disappeared after his shower to Hogwarts, having been called by his fellow elders to speak about his new job, again. Wyatt was leaning against the barrier, banging his head on the bricks every now and then, resulting in his hair sticking up even worse, and Chris was sitting on the floor, staring up at his mother and trying not to fall asleep against his brother's legs. They were all dressed alike in sweatpants and sweatshirts in dark colors, except for Paris and Prue, who wore identical skirts and long-sleeved shirts with butterflies embroidered onto them.

Stacked up on a trolley that Phoebe was leaning against were four trunks, belonging to each of the Halliwell children. Paris and Prue had been the first to pack, but only because Phoebe had threatened to put them back in muggle school. Wyatt had packed yesterday around noon, and Chris had kept him awake late into the night packing his own trunk. Chris often left things to the last moment, including the doing of his homework and the cleaning of his bedroom.

With a sigh of frustration, Piper took a step away from the barrier, turning around in a fluid motion and shrugging at the expectant looks of her sisters, nieces, and children. Wyatt had decided that it was time for him to open his magical senses to find the entrance to the barrier when a large group of redheads, including the gangly, freckled boy with red hair that Wyatt had heard complaining about not having enough money to buy a Lightning Bolt in Diagon Alley, came running down the strip towards the two platforms. They were shouting loudly amongst themselves; two identical young men seemed to be cooing over the redhead that Wyatt recognized, while a boy with dark hair and a girl with bushy brown hair ran alongside a small girl with long, fiery red hair. Other than the six of them, there was a squat woman that appeared older than Piper, and a balding man that appeared even older than the woman. All along the platform, people were moving out of their way, shooting disgruntled looks at the uncontrolled bunch.

"They might be able to show us how to get onto the platform," Wyatt distantly heard his aunt Phoebe say to his mother as they neared, her eyes trained on the trunks and two caged owls that were being rolled along on trolleys by the younger teens. Most of Wyatt's attention was trained on the dark-haired boy that he had almost dismissed a few seconds before; he had just recognized this young man, too.

_Why me?_ he thought weakly to himself, leaning against the barrier again as his head began to spin. The group stopped, panting, in front of the Halliwells. Wyatt still stared at Harry, unconciously mouthing _Harry Potter_. Harry seemed to notice, and flushed when he realized what Wyatt meant, although Wyatt couldn't tell whether or not the flush was from embarrassment or anger, and was too much against opening his senses to check. There were too many people on the platform, and if enough emotions could get past his barriers, he wasn't sure how long it would take to put them back up again.

Wyatt shook his head and looked away from Harry to hide his own blush, turning to his mother, who was smiling as she talked with the older woman, who introduced herself as Molly Weasley, and then introduced the others. Arthur was her husband, Fred and George were the twins, Ron was her youngest son, Ginny was her only daughter, Hermione Granger was Ron's friend, and Harry Potter was Ron's other friend. Wyatt was able to keep his face blank this time, though his eyes flicked to Harry again. Harry looked away from him, but not before he realized that Wyatt had not looked at his scar, but at _him_, which confused him to no end. After the woman had introduced herself, Piper nodded and said, "I'm Piper Halliwell, and these are my sisters, Phoebe and Paige. These two are-"

"Paris and Prue," interrupted Paris and Prue in unison, shaking hands with Fred and George, who exchanged glances and appeared impressed. They bowed to the younger set of twins, grinning widely. In return, Paris and Prue giggled, blushing softly, and bowed themselves. By the end of the whole spectacle, the five adults were smiling. Wyatt rolled his eyes, however, and Chris did the same. _Twins_. Ron and Hermione rolled their eyes as well, while Ginny just giggled along with Paris and Prue. Wyatt noticed that Harry didn't show any reaction to the twins' antics.

When Piper did not immediately introduce her sons, Chris said, "I'm Chris, and this is my older brother." Chris shook hands with each Weasley, Hermione, and Harry. He did not know of Harry Potter as the Boy Who Lived, just as the unsmiling boy with dark hair that was messier than his own.

Wyatt followed, shaking hands with Hermione, and then each of the Weasleys, reaching Harry last. When he did, he quickly flicked his eyes up and down the body of dark-haired boy, not noticing how Chris bit his lips so as not to laugh, an amused expression in his eyes. Harry was around the same height as Wyatt; he looked very different from how he had appeared in the visions that Wyatt had seen him in. In his visions, Harry had at least looked healthy; now, however, Harry looked skinny and malnourished. His clothes were too large and hung off his body; his skin was pale and his eyes were dull.

That didn't stop Wyatt from being attracted to him, however, and, unconciously, Wyatt opened his senses slightly. Sifting through the many emotions and thoughts he immediately picked up on, he focused in on those of Harry. Harry was tired, sad, and angry with everybody, especially himself. There were so many emotions raging inside that he could only look at Harry with undisguised confusion. Harry appeared just as confused as he was, but only because he had expected the light-haired boy to ask for his autograph or some other such nonsense - not for the other to stare at him with confusion and a complete lack of admiration. Finally, Wyatt held out his hand, saying, "Wyatt Halliwell."

"Harry Potter," Harry said, unnecessarily. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and shook Wyatt's hand, an action that he was unaware had changed his destiny. Wyatt pulled Harry closer to him, ignoring the widening of the emerald eyes, until they were nearly touching; he gripped Harry's hand tightly, not allowing the other to pull away, and, looking at him searchingly, whispered in a voice that only Harry could hear, "You shouldn't bottle up your emotions like that, Harry. You could end up hurting yourself." Then, after a moment of having Harry stare at him in shock, Wyatt released his hand and moved back, bowing his head to hide his own confused expression. He knew that he was being stared at suspiciously and untrustingly by the Weasleys and Hermione, and that his own family appeared confused at his actions; Wyatt was known for his self-control.

"Well," said Piper, clearing her throat and smiling at the Weasleys, "I think that we should get moving. The train leaves in less than two minutes and we still don't have any idea of how to get onto the platform." Molly, although she appeared no less suspcious, nodded, and she showed the Halliwells the way onto the platform. The Halliwells followed, looking slightly embarrassed at not having figured out how to get onto the platform themselves. Quickly, the trunks were stored in the back of the train and, soon enough, the group of children had climbed aboard. "Bye!" Piper yelled from the platform as the train began moving, her voice rising above the other voices, "Don't forget that Prue has motion sickness!" Prue ducked away in embarrassment, mumbling that Piper was out to ruin her life. She cheered up a little when Piper yelled that Chris wasn't to stuff Paris in a trunk again and that Wyatt should remember to wear clothes under his robes this time so that they did not have a repeat of the yesterday's peep show.

Paris was the only Halliwell to remain unembarrassed when the train left the station. Chris was moaning about his mother ruining his life and embarrassing him before school even started, while Wyatt was complaining in a language that might have been German, and Prue was nearly crying with embarrassment. She had only gotten sick once, aboard a boat, and it had been Chris' fault; he had tricked her into eating some of their aunt's sushi dinner. Paris was, of course, laughing. "That was great!" the older of the sisters cried. "Simply marvelous!"

"For you, maybe," said Chris, rolling his eyes and calming down. "I'm bailing. Who knows, there might be a cute fourth year somewhere, just waiting for me to sweep her off her feet." Wyatt, Paris, and Prue snorted at this, but Chris paid them no mind as he left the compartment, whistling the theme song to _Pirates of the Caribbean_ under his breath. After a moment, Paris turned to her sister and asked her if she would like to look for the other second years. Prue acquiesced and the two disappeared, leaving Wyatt alone in the compartment.

After a few minutes of reflection, Wyatt shimmied the earphones that were resting around his neck up over his ears, turning on his cassette player. He turned around and laid down on the bench as the song _How Soon is Now_ by _Everclear_ blared in his ears, already somewhere in the middle. He unconciously began to sing the lyrics along with the band; Wyatt liked to sing and was told that he had a beautiful voice by his family and various strangers that heard him in P3, his mother's club, when he sang there once a month. Piper had left P3 in the hands of her manager, promising to check in every now and then.

"_I am the son, I am the heir,_

_Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar._

_I am the son and the heir,_

_Of nothing in particular._

_You shut your mouth,_

_How dare you say,_

_That I go about things the wrong way._

_I am human and I need to be loved,_

_Just like everybody else does._

_There's a club if you'd like to go._

_You could meet somebody who really loves you._

_So you go, and you stand on your own and_

_You leave on your own and you go home_

_And you cry and you want to die._

_When you say it's gonna happen 'now,'_

_When exactly do you mean?_

_See I've already too long,_

_and all my hope is gone._

_You shut your mouth,_

_How dare you say,_

_I go about things the wrong way._

_I am human and I need to be-_"

The muffled sound of the compartment door opening caused Wyatt to pause, and the song ended, moving onto _Headstrong_ by _Trapt_. Wyatt lifted his head and cracked open one eye; at the sight of the person in the doorway, however, he opened both eyes and sat up quickly, shutting off the music and running his hand through his hair, pushing the earphones back around his neck as he did so. At the same time, he wished that he had remembered to brush his hair.

Harry Potter stared at him, looking somewhat surprised and mortified. "Sorry," he told Wyatt quickly, backing out of the compartment and reaching for the door, adding, "I didn't know that anyone was in here." Before the dark-haired young man could close the door, Wyatt grabbed it, just underneath Harry's own hand, so that their fingers touched slightly. Harry's skin was paler than Wyatt's, even. Harry froze for a moment, and then pulled away, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

"You can stay," said Wyatt, almost but not quite sounding hopeful. He bit his lip as Harry glanced down the train, almost longingly, and said with a small smile, "You don't have to, you know. Stay, if you don't want to, that is," he elaborated.

Harry looked back, surprised, and then quickly entered the compartment, closing the door behind himself and dropping into the seat across from Wyatt. He glanced at Wyatt before looking away, and said, in a quiet voice, "Thank you."

Wyatt looked confused, but, as Harry wasn't looking at him, the other didn't see. "For what?" he asked, sounding surprised. Harry shrugged. He mouthed _ooh_ when he saw Harry peeking a look at him from the corner of his eyes, and relaxed against the compartment wall, shutting off the cassette player and lifting his legs onto the bench, crossing them, Indian-style, and leaning his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists. "I get lonely, too."

Harry jumped, and clenched his hands in his lap almost immediately, looking at Wyatt with an expression that was not quite a glare. "You get lonely?" he asked, in a voice filled with bitter disbelief. "You have a younger brother _and_ two younger sisters, a mother, two aunts, _and_ probably two uncles and a father, and _you_ get lonely?"

Wyatt felt slightly angry, but managed to sound calm. "Paris and Prue aren't my sisters; they're my cousins. Piper is my mom and Phoebe is their mom. I don't have any uncles," here he sighed, "because Jason, Paris and Prue's father, died when I was seven." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And my father is barely ever around, except for when there are emergencies or he gets time off work." Harry was rigid for a moment, and then he looked up at Wyatt. "You get lonely, don't you, even though you're surrounded by friends and family that love you, right?" Harry opened his mouth, probably to answer, but Wyatt continued, "So, yes, I do get lonely. Just because I have family doesn't mean that I don't sometimes feel like I don't have anyone."

"I don't have any family," said Harry finally. Wyatt wasn't sure what he had expected as a reply, but it hadn't been that. His expression changed to one of confusion as Harry mumbled, "The only relatives I have are the Dursleys, and they don't care about me. They only take care of me because they're afraid of Dumbledore," he finished, sounding bitter again. "What am I saying? They don't take care of me. They hate me. They just keep me in the house and force me to do all the housework, and then don't feed me enough, either." Every bitter thought and resentment that Harry had ever felt came forth, and he was unable to stop himself from speaking. "I don't have my own clothes, unless you count my school robes and the sweaters that Mrs. Weasley knits for me every winter. I don't even deserve them. All that I've ever done is cause pain. It's my fault that my parents are dead; if it wasn't for me and that stupid prophecy, they'd still be alive. It's my fault that Cedric died; it's my fault that Sirius is dead; and it's my fault that Voldemort is back. Everything that I touch shrivels up, and dies."

Wyatt felt sick and dizzy; Harry's feelings were so strong that they were making cracks in his mental barriers, affecting him as they affected Harry. Quickly, when Harry stopped to take a breath, Wyatt pushed himself out of his seat, dropping onto his knees in front of Harry, and took Harry's hands in his own. Harry froze, staring down at him in disbelief. "You're touching me, Harry," said Wyatt, "and I'm not dead." Uncomfortable with Harry's frozen expression, Wyatt half-grinned and said, "And unless I'm mistaken, I'm still unshriveled and pretty, right?"

"Yeah. Yes," corrected Harry, blinking and giving himself a little shake, blushing slightly.

"Unshriveled, pretty, or both?" asked Wyatt in a teasing voice. Harry gaped and his blush became more pronounced, but before he could articulate an answer, the compartment door opened and Chris, who was not paying attention to his surroundings, walked in, announcing, "So, I've been talking to Ginny Weasley, and she's really cu... Am I interrupting something?" he finally asked, staring from Harry, to Wyatt, and then to their joined hands, both of his eyebrows raised.

Harry, his cheeks burning in embarrassment, cleared his throat and removed his hands from Wyatt's grip. Wyatt turned slightly pink and sat back on his heels, managing to give his brother an exasperated look. "No, you are not," said Wyatt. Chris had a very knowing look on his face and was smiling in a very suggestive way, and so Wyatt, glancing at Harry, who was staring at Chris in mortification, continued, "So, uh, what is this I hear about Ginny?" Harry appeared grateful when Chris turned to Wyatt and continued speaking about his conversation with Ginny.

The dark-haired Gryffindor watched the two brothers talk for a while. Wyatt and Chris teased eachother all throughout their conversation, which Harry soon had trouble following. By the time that Hermione and Ron found them nearly an hour later, Wyatt and Chris were bickering about the differences between blondes, brunettes, and redheads. "Redheads have quick tempers, so they're more interesting," Chris was saying when Hermione and Ron burst into the compartment. Neither Halliwell seemed to notice, but Harry smiled at them, whispering, "I have no idea what they're talking about, but it is interesting nonetheless." Hermione and Ron were so shocked at seeing Harry smile that they could only smile back and sit down on the bench with him.

"Redheads might have quick tempers, but blondes are definitely more fun," said Wyatt. "At least most of the ones I've known, including myself," he said with a proud smile, "are."

Chris shook his head and said, "That may be true but if you want to have a good time you always go for the girl with red hair. Redheads are so much better in bed." Here, he glanced at Ron, asking, "Right?" Ron choked on the chocolate frog he had been snacking on and blushed to the roots of his hair, while Chris grinned mercilessly. Harry decided now that it was a much better idea to not mention the fact that Chris had burst into the compartment, raving about the good looks of his younger, redhaired sister.

"First off," said Wyatt, sounding offended, "blondes are definitely better in the bedroom, according to most statistics, and second of all, you're still a virgin, so there is no way that you know who is better in bed, Chris. I'm going to give you some advice, though, little brother. If you want a really good time, you have got to go for the bookworm." Hermione appeared very offended at the conversation. "The quiet girls are usually the craziest when it comes to sex." Hermione gasped, sputtering, but nobody paid her any mind. The attentions of Ron and Harry were trained on the two Halliwell boys, and their attentions were trained on each other.

"How would you know, Wyatt, you don't even like girls," said Chris, before slapping a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. Wyatt went rigid and then glared at Chris, his eyes glittering with disbelief and anger. Harry felt his jaw drop in surprise, even as he felt a trifle bit triumphant, for whatever unknown reason, and saw the jaws of Ron and Hermione do the same.

"What," Wyatt began in a soft, hissing voice, "did I say about keeping the things that I tell you to yourself, brother?" Chris went rigid, as well, expecting Wyatt to lash out at him with his powers, but was surprised when Wyatt only turned away from him, crossing his arms over his chest. Chris, with an expression of surprise, slight fear, and relief, turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione managed to decipher the hint that he was giving and stood up, dragging Harry and Ron out of the compartment along with her, and leaving the two brothers alone. Chris took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Wyatt," said Chris carefully. "It just... slipped out." Wyatt didn't move or give any sign that he was even listening to what his brother was saying. "Wyatt?" said Chris hesitantly, lifting a hand as if he were going to touch Wyatt's shoulder and then deciding against it, letting his hand flop back onto the bench. "It won't happen again. I promise."

Wyatt turned to the side so that Chris could see his profile. To the endless relief of his brother, Wyatt did not appear angry, just thoughtful and upset. He sat like that for a moment before turning back to Chris. Wyatt stared at him for a long moment and then sighed. "It better not," he told Chris, managing to sound cross and look calm at the same time, "happen again, Chris. If it does, I'm going to have to either erase your memory of the conversation we had when I told you, or use a spell on you to help you keep your mouth shut. I'd rather not have to do either, but if you leave me with no choice, I will." Chris nodded and Wyatt sighed again, turning away. After a moment of silence, he said, "I'm just not ready for other people to know about me yet."

"Sorry," repeated Chris, finally reaching out and patting Wyatt's shoulder; he was now sure that Wyatt wouldn't curse him or use any kind of spell on him. However, just when he had deemed Wyatt safe again, Wyatt turned back to him with a devious expression. Chris wasn't sure when Wyatt had summoned it, but his wand was in his left hand. "Uh, Wyatt... Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Chris. "What are you doing?" he asked in a panicked voice when Wyatt raised the wand, pointing it at him.

"Tartantallegra!" Chris let out a yell of surprise when his legs began to move of their own accord. He fell out of his seat and started falling around the compartment, his legs flailing every which way. Wyatt was laughing. "It worked," the teen said proudly, banishing his wand with a flick of the wrist. "One more thing," the light-haired young man then said, reaching out and touching Chris' shoulder. Chris let out another yell as his clothes became a black and green dress that clung to his rather manly frame; it was short, barely falling to his knees. "Perfect," said Wyatt, grinning.

"This is not funny!" yelled Chris as he legs carried him from the compartment. "Take this goddamn curse off me right now, Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, or I will tell mom that _you_ were the one who drew the moustache and horn on the Source in the Book of Shadows! Wyatt!" Wyatt laughed as he followed Chris down the train. "This isn't funny! My legs are cold! I'm tired and I can't breathe!"

"Then maybe you should stop talking, little brother," Wyatt managed to suggest through his laughter, saluting the various students whom he crossed pathes with. Laughter followed them as they made their way down the train, often turning back because of Chris' uncontrollable movements.

Eventually, Chris led Wyatt into a compartment at the front of the train, in which the two Halliwells found a group of surly teens around his own age. They didn't laugh, but instead appeared disgusted, and moved out of the way as Chris did something resembling the robot in the middle of the compartment before beginning to tap dance. Wyatt was getting a Very Evil Vibe off these teens. One of them, whom Wyatt assumed was the leader of the small group, sneered, "You must be the new students." He was pale and thin, with a pointed face and very fair blonde hair. Wyatt didn't like him.

Summoning his wand and making it look as if he had pulled it from the pocket of his sweatshirt instead, Wyatt pointed it at Chris for a moment before realizing that he didn't know how to cancel the spell. Eventually, he just waved it and whispered something unintelligable under his breath, ending the curse and transforming the dress back into the grey sweatpants and dark green sweatshirt that Chris had originally worn with his own form of magic. Chris would have fallen to the floor hadn't Wyatt caught him, helping him to stand up upright. "Sorry about the intrusion, gentlemen, ladies," said Wyatt, not sounding sorry at all. When he turned to Chris, he sounded honest when he told his brother, "Sorry, little brother." Chris nodded, his expression telling Wyatt that he knew he deserved it, before he began the process of catching his breath back.

"Keep your _little brother_ on a leash," said the other light-haired teen coldly, sneering again. Wyatt narrowed his eyes at him, but he turned to his friends and, as if Chris and Wyatt had already left the compartment, continued, "Muggle-borns are so impossibly uncivilized. Why they're allowed in Hogwarts is simply beyond me. If my father was still a school governer, he would be making sure that such filth didn't get into the school. It's bad enough that we have to deal with our own country's muggle-borns; we shouldn't have to deal with other countries' muggle-borns as well, especially _American_ muggle-borns." The others nodded soundlessly in agreement. Chris was still unable to speak, but he managed to look offended nonetheless. Wyatt, who was already angry and restless, felt himself snap.

"First of all, you disgusting piece of pureblooded _trash_," said Wyatt, "_our _country kicked the crap out of _your_ country during the Revolution, so if I was you (and thank God that I am _not_), I'd be choosing whom I insulted with better care. Second of all, we're not muggle born, and even if we were, that would be none of _your_ concern. Thirdly, we're allowed in Hogwarts because it's open to all witches and wizards. If you and your friends want your own place where you can preen without having to worry about catching some kind of non-existent disease that you seem to think all muggle-borns have, you can go build your _own_ school with all your _inherited_ galleons on the grounds of your _large, opulent homes_ where your daddies can teach you all about the importance of being pompous, self-righteous _pricks_." Leaving the teens gaping at him and Chris staring at him with disbelief, Wyatt left the compartment, dragging his brother along with him.

When they entered their own compartment, Wyatt paced, his face flushed, and Chris stared at him, his expression rapidly changing from one of disbelief to one of unchecked glee. "Yes!" he shouted in a thunderous voice as Paris and Prue joined them. "I knew it!" The dark-haired teen turned to his cousins and, jabbing his finger at them, said proudly, "I told you that he would snap before his seventeenth birthday! How could he not, being the king of the magical world and the strongest witch ever? Hah! You both owe me twenty dollars! I won the bet!" Paris and Prue groaned in unison.

Wyatt froze. "You bet," said he, "on how long it would take me to yell at someone?"

"No," said Chris slowly, before grinning and speaking quickly, "we bet on how long it would be before you totally lost your marbles and, based on that performance, I'd say that the time has come. By the way, wonderful job. Really great. I loved the insults. I'm filing them away for later use... and blackmail material, of course." At this point, Wyatt was gaping, but Chris, Paris, and Prue had already fled the compartment, laughing.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU THREE!" Wyatt yelled, and their fellow students were treated with the sight of the four Halliwells chasing eachother up and down the train, three of them laughing and one of them cursing in various languages.

To my loyal reader(s) and reviewer(s):

_Revolutionisedblader_: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad that you love the story. I know how people feel about reviewing; I rarely ever do it myself, unless I find a great story that I really love. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in almost a month but I hope that you find chapter three satisfactory!

_DamnationSalvation:_ Thank you for reviewing! I know what it's like with sisters; I have three that constantly force me off the computer. I rarely ever get a chance to go on; I had to right this chapter while home sick! Again, I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a long time, but I'm trying to make sure that I remember to update and don't forget to completely. Don't worry about not reviewing the each and every single chapter; I just hope that you like what you read.

_Ladida:_ I have talent? I have talent! Thank you so very much for saying that! I'm glad that you think it's different from the other stories; that was one of my goals. I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in almost a month, but with school and everything, things got kind of hectic. Harry and Wyatt met in this chapter; did you like? I'm sorry that you lost your account and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I'll try to update again soon, but I'm not going to make any promises. Again, thank you, and enjoy!

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please review!** I'm glad that I'm getting more reviews, but I'd like more. I understand that you may not like my story, but if you don't, please tell me what's wrong with it, even if it means insulting me; I have a very thick skin. However, like I said in the last chapter, if you are going to complain about slash or about the couples, don't bother, because I won't bother dignifying your comment with a response. I already warned you that it was slash and that said slash involved Harry Potter and Wyatt Halliwell, so please leave this out of your comments, unless it is to say that you actually think it's a good couple or that it's at least an original one.


	5. C4: Sorting the Twice Blessed Child

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. However, nobody really knows what Wyatt saw except for him. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that could not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:**I know what you're thinking: new chapter, so soon!? It's true! I don't have much to say, other than go Yankees!, and R.I.P Christopher Reeve. I hope you enjoy this chapter of Reaching for the Red Moon. Don't look forward to the next chapter being uploaded as quickly, though (sorry!); I'll try, but I'm swamped with homework, and my job is normal hours again, all of a sudden. Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter. **And, please, please, please review once you are done reading!**

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The cool, cloudy day had turned into a cold, cloudy, and rainy night by the time the train pulled into Hogsmeade. The compartments were full of noise, ringing with the voices of the procrastinating students as they hastily threw on their robes. Wyatt had changed hours ago, pulling off his sweatshirt and replacing it with his school robes. As the train began to slow, Chris jumped up, yanked his sweatshirt off (revealing the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath) and threw on his robes, apparently not noticing that they were inside-out. Hermione, who sat in the compartment with the two elder Halliwells, Ron, and Harry, looked exceedingly embarrassed at his shameless behavior, and huffed when Wyatt and Chris laughed at her expression, blushing slightly. Ron looked away, a jealous expression clouding his face.

Earlier, Wyatt had chased his brother and cousins for a good thirty minutes, finally managing to catch the three of them in the luggage compartment. Wyatt had taken the twenty dollars that the twins owed Chris, which he knew would annoy his penniless brother more than if he had been turned into a rat or something, and had told the twins that he would tell their mother about the bet. Any triumph they had felt at the sullen expression of Chris vanished; Phoebe had hated when her daughters involved themselves in bets since, almost three years ago, they had nearly lost the manor to demonic children because of them.

As Wyatt was musing on his good fortune, fingering the two ten dollar bills in his pocket, Paris and Prue burst into the compartment, fully robed, their wands outstretched, looking flushed and excited. The train came to a complete stop and, after some arguing, it was decided that Hermione, Harry, and Ron would show the Halliwells were they were to go.

When they stepped onto the platform, Wyatt was almost knocked over by several second years. Everyone was trying to get into the carriages and out of the rain as quickly as possible. Hermione walked up to a giant man with a bushy, tangled beard and equally tangled hair, and questioned him about where the Halliwells should go. It was decided that they would take the trip up to Hogwarts in a carriage, for which Wyatt was extremely grateful; he had the feeling that he wouldn't make it across the lake without falling in or at least getting wet.

Wyatt, Chris, Paris, and Prue followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione into a carriage, but not after Wyatt and Chris had admired the thestrals, which were skeletal horses with white eyes; it was rather cramped inside once they all managed to squeeze in, which resulted in Harry and Wyatt squeezing together against one side of the carriage, while a blushing Hermione was half-sitting on Ron, who looked rather content with his current position, on the other side. Chris, who was sitting on the seat with Harry and Wyatt, was taking up a rather large amount of the cushion; he leered at Wyatt when Harry looked at his lap, blushing, at the same time that Hermione and Ron argued over how much space Ron was taking up. Wyatt only glared at his brother, who smiled at him in return.

"This is rather uncomfortable," Harry finally said. Wyatt nodded but couldn't find a more comfortable position for either of them. Ron looked suspiciously at Wyatt, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was glaring at Chris, but was forced to defend himself against Hermione, who was trying to push him flat against the carriage so that she would be sitting on the seat and not him, her face glowing red. "Just move over, Ronald!" Paris and Prue were giggling, staring at the two of them. They appeared not to notice how embarrassed both Wyatt and Harry looked.

"I'm extremely comfortable," said Chris, stretching languishly. It was then that Ron, looking extremely disgruntled and somewhat disappointed, pushed Hermione off his lap, resulting in, amongst other things, Prue being pushed completely off the seat. Wyatt and Chris started laughing, but Wyatt stopped when Prue jumped up and sat next to Chris, who moved over more than was necessary and pushed him closer to Harry.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that Harry was extremely embarrassed about the seating arrangements; he was too embarrassed, in fact, to do anything about them, and so the ride lasted another three or so minutes in uncomfortable silence, and then seven students jumped from the carriages and, after Wyatt, Chris, and Harry had bid the thestrals farewell, they ran into the school with all the other students. Upon entering the Great Hall, Ron's eyes bugged when he looked casually at the Head Table for his new Defense Against the Dark Arts' professor. "Wow!" he said, echoing the sentiments of several other male students, "the new professors are babes!" Here, he gave Wyatt a funny, slightly shallow look. Wyatt understood and looked away, still embarrassed about his secret being revealed to three strangers.

However, Chris realized immediately whom he was speaking of; for the first time in his life, he picked up on something before his often meticulous older brother did. He crinkled his nose and gave Ron an equally weird look. "I cannot believe," he began, "that you think my mother, who is in her forties, is a babe." Ron's jaw dropped in surprise and he turned several shades of red, but could not articulate a response before they were pushed along to the table by the other students gathering in the hall. Chris almost sat down before catching the eye of his mother, who was gesturing that he, Wyatt, and the twins should come to the front of the hall.

"I think we're supposed to go up there," said Chris. "See you guys later," he added, waving at the three Gryffindors. Wyatt nodded to each of them, thanking them for their help, and followed Paris and Prue, who, excited, nearly ran to the front of the hall. Instead of stopping and waiting for the first years, they walked on until they reached the head table, smiling at their mothers and aunts.

"How was the ride here?" Phoebe asked Paris and Prue, as Wyatt leaned over the table and kissed his mother on the cheek, followed closely by Chris, who did the same.

Paris and Prue immediately smiled and launched into a detailed description of the train ride, purposely leaving out the fact that they had gambled on Wyatt's state of mind. Wyatt opened his mouth to tell Phoebe about the bet, but at the pleading looks that he received from his cousins, he decided against it. Despite the disgruntled look he received from his younger brother, he turned to his mother and said, "You know, I've been thinking."

"About?" prompted Piper when Wyatt wasn't immediately forthcoming about what he had been thinking. Meanwhile, Paris and Prue continued to talk at speeds previously unknown to human kind and Chris continued to stare at him with an angry expression, not believing that his own brother had taken the money he had earned and not told their aunt about their cousins' involvement.

Wyatt said, "How are we supposed to go straight into the right classes without having learned any of the other stuff?"

As Piper realized that she did not have an answer to this question, Albus Dumbledore, who had been listening to the conversation with attentive ears, smiled and answered for her. "I'd been thinking about that, too, Mr. Halliwell." Wyatt, startled at the interruption, turned to look at the headmaster, who smiled slightly. "At first, I thought that we'd have no choice but to put you, your brother, and your cousins in the first year classes." At the shocked looks of both Chris and Wyatt, the wizened man hastily added, "Then I remembered that this was to seem as normal as possible. With the help of Severus, your potions professor," here he inclined his head to a surly-looking young wizard with rather greasy hair, "I was able to come up with a potion that would give you the knowledge that, as sixth, fourth, and second years, you should already have. I will explain it all later, along with what the students shall and shall not know about your heritage, when we meet in my office." Piper nodded, satisfied with his solution. Dumbledore grinned. "But now, however, it is time for the sorting."

Gradually, the students quieted down, and the four Halliwell children turned around to see them watching a rather strict-looking woman with tightly wound hair and rectangular glasses lead a group of frightened, nervous children into the Great Hall. Wyatt could understand their feelings; he was beginning to feel nervous himself. _I better get into Gryffindor_, Wyatt thought, looking at Harry, who smiling slightly and talking with a boy with sandy brown hair. Wyatt felt slightly jealous.

The strict professor, who reminded Wyatt of his physical education teacher for the past two years, Coach Romanello, lead the unsorted children to the front of the hall, where the four youngest Halliwells waited. Only now did Wyatt notice a rather tattered hat that was set upon an equally tattered stool with three rickety and splintering legs.

When a tear near the brim of the hat opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing, Wyatt was so startled that he took a few steps back, and it was only the lightning-fast reflexes of his younger brother that stopped him from falling flat on his behind. Some of the students who were able to see his almost-fall tittered with laughter. Wyatt managed not to blush, for he was a person that did not blush often, and noticed that Harry was trying not to smile and failing.

Wyatt suddenly felt self-concious, which was an odd, entirely new feeling for him. He pulled at his collar as his face turned unexplicably red. _All this just because he is almost laughing at me? Forget what I thought this summer,_ Wyatt thought to himself, turning to look at the enchanted ceiling, which reflected the night sky, t_his year is going to stink._

Meanwhile, the hat finished its song. As the students clapped, cheered, and whistled, the unsmiling witch pulled a scroll from an inside pocket of her emerald robes and began to read the names of the gathered first years from it. Wyatt, who was known for his attention to details (in most cases), carefully filed away the names of the first years and figured out which table held which house based on the amount of clapping that was done when the hat sorted a new student. From left to right, there was the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff tables.

After the last first year was sorted into Ravenclaw, Dumbledore rose from his seat, waiting for the confused whispers of his students to fade into silence. "As you may or may not have noticed," began the professor, his eyes twinkling, once the hall was for the most part silent, "we have four transfer students, who join us from San Francisco, California, which most of you should know is in the United States of America. At this time, they will be sorted. Professor McGonagall will tell you what years they are in."

"Chris Halliwell, year four," said the woman that had called out the names of the first years, whom Wyatt assumed was Professor McGonagall. Chris turned slightly green and stayed unmoving. Wyatt pushed him towards the stool after a few seconds, amongst some snickers from the younger students, and Chris stumbled towards the hat, sitting on the stool hesitantly. McGonagall placed the hat on his head and, after less than twenty seconds, the hat cried out, "Gryffindor!"

Wyatt clapped as Chris, obviously relieved, joined Ginny at the table to the far left. Ginny blushed hotly, her face nearly matching her hair, and started talking with his younger brother. Wyatt rolled his eyes, feeling slightly sorry for Ginny; Chris, although barely fourteen, had already gone through six girlfriends. For the next two minutes, Wyatt watched as both Paris and Prue were sorted into Hufflepuff, and then took a deep breath when McGonagall called his own name.

"How very interesting," a voice whispered as soon as the hat fell over his eyes. "The twice-blessed child of prophecy." Wyatt almost asked aloud how the hat knew that about him, but the hat, apparently reading his thoughts, answered, "I know what you know; I do read your thoughts. This is a very exciting moment for me; I've never sorted so important a person before, unless you count Harry Potter, and I feel that I must ask, my young king, where do you think you belong?"

_Gryffindor_, thought Wyatt immediately and without hesitation. _Please,_ he added.

The all-knowing hat chuckled. "Ah, yes. You wish to be with your brother... and another young man whom we both know." Wyatt felt himself blush and was immensely glad that the hat covered half his face. "But is Gryffindor the house for you? You are analytical, proud, and ambitious. I see that you are not easily embarrassed, but that in matters of the heart, you bear all for others to see." _You're telling me. I've never been so embarrassed in my life than I've been in the last twelve hours._ The hat laughed and continued, "You can remain calm, but can also lose your temper easily when it comes to those you love being hurt or insulted, as a young Slytherin now knows." Wyatt smirked. "However, you never lose your temper completely, and I must warn you to be careful with your powers, young Halliwell. Loyal and friendly describe you well. So brave, too! I see that you will do anything to protect your family, even bare the pain of poisonous wounds! So many different traits... so many possibilities."

Wyatt was starting to get annoyed when the hat remained silent for a long time. It came as a surprise to even himself when the hat suddenly yelled out, "Gryffindor!"

_Thank God_, thought Wyatt as the hat was removed. There was a loud applause for him, but Wyatt tried not to notice; he hated it when people watched him, although he was more than used to it by now; everybody in magic school knew he was, and each year brought new students that liked to stare at him in awe until they realized he was just like everybody else, for the most part. The feel of his hair, which was damp with sweat and stinging his eyes, made him realize that he must have been under the hat for a while. Smiling sheepishly, he took a seat next to Chris, and directly across from Hermione, who sat with Ron on her side, opposite Chris. Harry sat on the other side of Hermione, to the right of Wyatt.

"That took a long time," Ron managed to whisper before Dumbledore once again stood, his presence demanding attention and respect from his pupils. The headmaster beamed at his students and waited for the very last whispers and giggles to die down before he spoke. "To all new students, welcome, and to all others, welcome back. The time for speeches and warnings will come later, but for now, I bid you have a good feast. Tuck in!"

Wyatt heard Paris and Prue shriek in surprise when the plates suddenly blossomed food, reminding him of the trees in the faery world, which suddenly and without warning bloomed fruit in the spring when the last reminants of winter faded. Wyatt was a little startled at the sudden appearence of food, but, like Chris, who was already scarfing down mashed potatoes and chicken wings, he was famished and dug in along with the others.

"This is good," said Chris after swallowing; their mother hated it when he spoke with food in his mouth. He grinned at Wyatt and nudged his brother with his shoulder. "But nobody cooks better than mom, right?" Wyatt shook his head, smiling. His mother was the best cook in the world.

"About your mom," said Ron with would-be nonchalance, hadn't it been for the swift blush that overcame his freckled cheeks, "which one is she? And, er, do you know who the other women are?" Hermione looked mildly annoyed and huffed as she took a sip of her juice, which caused some of it to dribble onto her robes. Chris smirked and Ginny giggled. Wyatt, although he had only known the Gryffindors for less than twelve hours, already knew that Hermione and Ron liked eachother. Obviously, they were too embarrassed and/or frightened to admit it to eachother.

Wyatt rolled his eyes and answered for Chris. "Our mom is the sitting next to McGonagall, or rather, the empty seat next to her. Aunt Phoebe (she's Paris and Prue's mother) is sitting next to the potions teacher. Aunt Paige is sitting in between them. They're sisters," he finished, taking another bite of his roasted beef. Ron nodded, smiling.

"You're lucky to have a good-looking mother like that. Your aunts aren't bad either," Ron said appreciatively. Harry, embarrassed for his friend, gave Wyatt an apologetic look, but Wyatt appeared to have not noticed, and Harry only ended up watching, his eyes wide, as the oldest Halliwell son absently licked some gravy off his wrist. However, Wyatt did notice, but his attentions were elsewhere, his pale eyes on the Head Table, and more specifically on the empty seat next to his mother. His father was missing, and Wyatt couldn't sense him anywhere, which meant that he was either still with the elders or in the underworld. After a few moments, Wyatt decided that his father was still with the elders, and focused back in on his surroundings, and just in time to see Ginny throw a roll at Ron's head; it hit him right between the eyes.

Wyatt, along with the others sitting near enough to see the little fight between brother and sister, laughed. After Ron had flicked some peas at Ginny, and the redhead had gotten her revenge by likewise flicking mashed potatoes into her brother's hair, Hermione managed to stop the fighting by threatening Ron over homework. A few minutes passed, and then a small girl walked up to Wyatt, stopping at his side. Wyatt looked expectantly at her, wondering what she wanted. She was staring at him. She had thick, wavy brown hair, more freckles than even Ron, and slate grey eyes. As she continued to stare, Wyatt asked her, "Is there something you wanted?"

The girl blushed, her eyes widening. She stuttered for a moment and then said. "I'm Leto Novotny, Wy- Mr. Halliwell." She leaned in and whispered so only he could hear, "I've always wanted to meet you, King Wyatt." Then she leaned back and smiled at him, her face turning even redder. Wyatt, for his part, was just plain shocked. He hadn't believed that there were other wiccans in Hogwarts. Dumbledore had even said that they hadn't had a wiccan student in many years. "I just wanted to welcome you and your brother to Gryffindor. If you need anything, I'd be glad to help. I'm in Gryffindor, too, in my third year." Very slowly, she backed away, her eyes still on him, before she found her seat and slipped into it, immediately leaning in and giggling with her friends.

Wyatt turned back in time to see Ron start laughing. "I think that someone likes you," he told Wyatt, and then frowned. "But... you don't... I mean..." The redhead stopped, looking embarrassed. Chris was glaring at him and Hermione looked very miffed at his rude behavior. Wyatt suddenly noticed his father sneak into the hall in a manner that clearly stated he wanted to go unnoticed, and, glad for the distraction, took full advantage of it.

"Uh... Chris, look, it's dad. Dad!" Wyatt called out, waving at his father. His father, startled, paused and tensed, turning slowly to his son. He turned slightly red when the attention shifted from dinner and gossip to himself. Looking somewhat sheepish, Leo smiled at his sons, and then quickly jogged up to the Head Table, dropping into the only empty seat. Piper immediately looked at him with concern and disapproval, and Wyatt watched as his father said something to her and then dug into his dinner as if it was his last meal on earth. Leo often did that when he had something to hide. It seemed that he thought the only way to politely refuse to answer her questions was to stuff his mouth so full of food that he couldn't speak without offending his wife.

"So let me get this right," said Hermione when Wyatt turned back to his dinner. He looked up at her, bringing a goblet filled with a strange orange liquid to his lips, and nodded for her to continue. "Your mother, father, and aunts now work at the school, and you're all from America." Wyatt nodded, tilting his head back to gulp down some of the juice. Immediately, he jerked the goblet away from his lips, spraying the mouthful of juice all over the table, sprinkling the white linen tablecloth with orange drops. Ron looked slightly disgusted, as did Hermione, but Harry and Chris both looked concerned.

"Blech! For the fucking saints of Avalon, what the hell is in this thing?" he cried, looking deeply into the glass of murky orange juice and trying to determine exactly what he had just drinken. _Poison, maybe,_ he thought in disgust. Chris, Ginny, Ron, and Harry started laughing, along with several of the surrounding Gryffindors, and quite a few of the Ravenclaws that were close enough to have seen. The drink had been salty and sweet, with a chalky, tangy taste. "Damn." He had just noticed that all the jugs on the table were filled with the orange liquid, except for two jugs at the very ends of the table that were filled with clear water.

Looking disgruntled, he pulled his wand out of an inside pocket, tapped the goblet, and whispered something so softly under his breath that only Chris caught the words, "_Damn wizards,_" and laughed shortly, before he realized that, in the eyes of the others, there was nothing to laugh about. The juice changed swiftly to water; he lifted the goblet up to his lips and took a careful sip, crinkling his nose when he realized that it still tasted somewhat like the nasty stuff that he had drinken only moments before.

"Never had pumpkin juice before?" Hermione asked, looking slightly suspicious. "I thought that all magic schools served pumpkin juice. Other than butterbeer, it is the leading drink for young witches and wizards." Wyatt, his fork loaded with roasted beef and mashed potatoes and a pea or two half-way to his lips, looked up at her, his eyes widening.

"Pumpkin... juice?" Chris questioned, looking faintly disturbed. Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione, along with a few other Gryffindors, nodded.

"That is disgusting," agreed Wyatt. "How did anyone come up with the idea to make juice fom a pumpkin?" The other Gryffindors shrugged and shook their heads to signal that they had no idea, but Hermione opened her mouth, tapping her own goblet of pumpkin juice and looking strangely like an eager librarian.

"Hermione," interrupted Harry suddenly, and Hermione snapped her mouth shut. She gave Harry a disgruntled look at being stopped from explaining something that Wyatt clearly wanted explained, and turned away from her friend. Harry turned to Wyatt and smiled slightly. "If you ask her something like that, be prepared for a long history lesson. Hermione probably knows more about the wizarding world than someone like Ron does." Ron nodded, although Hermione only blushed; Wyatt couldn't tell whether or not she was embarrassed or upset.

The rest of dinner was a peaceful affair. By the time that the last traces of dessert had disappeared and the plates and goblets had been wiped clean of both food and drink, Wyatt was feeling relaxed and very sleepy. The students slowly stopped talking amongst themselves as their Headmaster stood up, smiling. "Now that you are all fed and watered," the Headmaster began, "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. First, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is forbidden in the hallways between classes and that the full list of banned objects, some four hundred and forty-eight items, at last count, can be viewed in his office, if anybody is wondering.

"I would also like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is, as its name suggests, forbidden to all students, and that the Hogsmeade village is to all below third year banned. Now, that said, I would like to introduce you to your new professors. This year, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts' teacher has been filled by Remus Lupin, whom some of you will remember from three years ago," at this point, the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw students clapped and cheered, while the Slytherins looked sullen and murderous. "H regretfully cannot join us this evening, as there is a full moon, but sends his regards and promises to be up and about on Monday, when classes will begin." Students from all tables clapped and cheered, now; this meant they had Thursday _and_ Friday off. "Hogwarts also has the pleasure of welcoming a new mediwizard, Mister Leo Wyatt."

Wyatt and Chris could be heard cheering above the rest of the Gryffindors, and could be seen standing up in their seats, whistling and waving. Hermione just looked more suspicious, and asked both Halliwells when the students calmed, "Why does your father have a different last name than you do?" Wyatt and Chris just shrugged, Chris mumbling something about his mother being proud.

"We also have the opportunity to add a new class to the curriculum," the students booed at this point, for why would they want a new class?, but Dumbledore smiled and finished, "Don't be so sullen! The class will be called Wiccan Magic and will be taught by Professors Piper Halliwell," Piper waved, and Chris and Wyatt leapt up and clapped and howled and whistled along with several other students, "Phoebe Halliwell-Dean, ("Go mom!" yelled Paris and Prue) and Paige Matthews."

"You're related to the new Professors?" asked Seamus Finnegan, the sandy-haired wizard that Wyatt had seen earlier speaking with Harry, when the clapping ceased.

"Piper is our mom, Phoebe and Paige are our aunts, and Leo is our dad," said Chris, while Wyatt nodded in affirmation, glaring slightly at the Irish wizard.

"You're two very lucky blokes," said Seamus, looking awed. Chris laughed along with the other Gryffindors, until Dumbledore gave them all pointed looks and they quieted down so that he might finish his speech.

"The class will be mandatory to all students except for the first years," the first years looked disappointed at this. "It is late, and although you have three days to rest before classes begin, it is important for you all to get a good night's rest. Bedtime! Chop chop!" This said, Dumbledore sat again and, after beaming at his students, he turned to whisper something to McGonagall and Piper. Wyatt watched for a while, before Hermione asked the students to follow her to the Gryffindor common room. Ginny was herding the first years towards the doors, and Wyatt noticed that she, too, had a shiny badge pinned to the front of her robes.

Before Wyatt and Chris could get very far, their mother was suddenly in front of them. "We have to meet with Albus in his office," she told them, and Wyatt looked over to see Phoebe directing two her disappointed daughters to the Head Table. Wyatt nodded, as did Chris, and they followed their mother. Once the hall was empty of students, Wyatt realized that, besides his mother, aunts, and father, the only teachers who had remained behind were Hagrid, Snape, and McGonagall.

With a smile, Dumbledore led the small party to his office, a beautiful, round room filled with all sorts of trinkets and deviced that Wyatt wished he could look through. However, he kept his peace, and sat comfortably in a chair with his hands folded in his lap. Once everyone was settled, Dumbledore calmly addressed Hagrid, McGonagall, and Snape, "Obviously, you have all realized that there is something strange amiss." The three Professors nodded. "I just wanted to inform you that your feelings are not wrong. Professor Halliwell, Halliwell-Dean, Matthews, and Wyatt are not your normal witches and wizard."

"They are wiccans, I suppose," stated McGonagall, looking oddly pale. Although not entirely a question, Dumbledore nodded. "Albus, are you sure this is wise? Demons and all sorts of dark creatures target wiccans."

"I know, Minerva," said Dumbledore pleasently, popping a lemon drop in his mouth. "But these are not ordinary wiccans. Piper, Phoebe, and Paige are the Charmed Ones."

There was a ringing silence. Chris snorted when Snape suddenly said, "The Charmed Ones are a myth, Albus. They are a bedtime story that wiccan parents tell their young children to calm them down at night. There is no truth behind the story." Wyatt, annoyed with the dismissal of his heritage, turned to give the Professor a piece of his mind, but Dumbledore interrupted.

"I am delighted to inform you that the Charmed Ones are indeed real and that they are sitting in this room," the Headmaster said calmly. "Wyatt, Chris, Paris, and Prue are their children, and powerful wiccans as well." He looked at Piper while the Professors let this sink in, and said slowly, "If you don't think it all too intrusive, I would like to request a list of the childrens' various powers, unless you think it unnecessary, of course," he added.

"Well, the children can control their powers fairly well," said Piper. She looked at her husband and then at Wyatt, who shrugged and sank into his seat. _Here it comes,_ thought the oldest Halliwell son, shutting his eyes for a split second. "Paris sometimes loses control of her empathy, but she isn't dangerous, of course. But," she began, looking at Wyatt again; she appeared as if she were very hesitant to reveal what she was about to say.

Wyatt finished for her. "If I get angry or emotional enough, I could lose control of all of my powers." Dumbledore appeared as if he had already known this but Snape snidely asked him if that meant he would be blowing up things. Wyatt looked slowly to him and said in as calm a voice as he could muster, "Theoretically, if this happens, I have the power to crack the world in half, or at least wipe out all life on earth." At the horrified looks of the three professors and the faintly amused one of his brother, he added, "Luckily, this has never happened. I won't lose control easily."

"You don't have to worry," added Piper, giving Wyatt a disapproving look for frightening his teachers, "Wyatt has been trained by many different witches and high priests and priestesses from many different cultures and communities to keep his feelings balanced and his powers in check. Only demons have something to fear, from all of us."

Dumbledore nodded and told the three professors that they had nothing to worry about. "Is there anything else that we need to know?" he asked them, giving Wyatt a knowing look.

Wyatt glanced at his mother, who nodded, but not too quickly; he knew that his mother didn't want anyone to know about his special power, but that she knew it was necessary for them to know. "Before we tell you this, we need you to swear by all that is good and holy that you will never, ever repeat anything that you hear or see in this room," interrupted Leo, before Wyatt could say anything. Wyatt nodded. _Good thinking, dad, _he thought, relieved.

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly and said, "There is a spell on this room. Nothing said or seen can be repeated or spoken about, even under the strongest of truth potions, outside of this room." Leo nodded, pleased with his solution. Wyatt held out his hand and, after a minute, the sword of King Arthur appeared in his palm. He tossed it up in the air, and it flipped blade over hilt, before falling again; he caught it expertly.

"A sword?" asked Snape, failing to sound as if he weren't disappointed.

"Not just any sword," said Wyatt mysteriously, smiling. He let go of the sword and it hung still in midair. Wyatt crooked a finger at it and the sword began to spin, absorbing the light in the office and throwing it in different directions; the professors, inlcuding Dumbledore and Snape, looked impressed by the show. "This is Excalibur," he said, summoning the stone that the sword rested in. It landed in the middle of the office, shaking the floor and walls. Wyatt nodded at the sword and it stopped moving; he reached out, caught it, and jammed it into the stone; some sparks flew. "Only my mother and I can remove it."

"If that is Excalibur," said McGonagall in a disbelieving tone, "then why can Ms. Halliwell also control it? I thought that only the king of Camelot could control the sword."

"Only _King_ Wyatt can," said Piper, smiling affectionately. "I guess you can call me the Lady of the Lake. It was my job to protect the sword until Wyatt was ready to bear the responsibilty. I had planned to keep it a secret until he turned eighteen, but we had a bit of a problem five years ago, and Wyatt had to be taught how to use it immediately." The 'bit of a problem' that she spoke of had been a demon from Arthurian times; King Arthur had been unable to beat it, and had instead captured its essence, which Paige had accidentally unleased, in a dagger. The only way to defeat it had been with Excalibur, and so Wyatt had needed to learn how to use the sword correctly. The elders had hired several elven warriors to teach him to control it.

McGonagall was nodding. "Amazing," was all she said.

Dumbledore nodded, smiling. "There is something else. Leo Wyatt is an elder," Leo opened his mouth to correct Dumbledore, who amended, "some of the time. He also has the powers of a whitelighter, which is a deceased man or woman who has the power to heal and guide new witches into their powers. He is also the father of Wyatt and Chris." Leo nodded. "Now that the three of you know this, Severus, the potion, if you would?"

Snape scowled and reached into his robes, pulling out seven viles of clear liquid. Each one was marked with a name, ranging from Leo to Prue. As Piper was handed a vile with her name on it, she asked, "Why do we have to drink it? We're not in school."

"Yes," said Dumbledore, nodding, "but you have to know about the wizarding world as if you have already finished school. Now, you will take half of this potion before you fall asleep tonight, and the other half tomorrow night. This is part of the reason while classes aren't starting until next week. While you slumber, it will slowly release the knowledge that you need as students, professors, and mediwizards. Understood?" The others nodded, but Wyatt slowly shook his head. Dumbledore understood immediately, and, before Wyatt could argue, he added, "Your potion is slightly different from the others. It will save you from your visions for two nights and two nights only while it gives you the knowledge of a sixth year."

"Thank you," said Wyatt, purposely ignoring the inquisitive looks of Snape and McGonagall. He didn't miss McGonagall mouth _a seer_ to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore shrug back at her, though.

"The last thing I have to say before you retire is that the students will be aware of your wiccan heritage before long," said Dumbledore. "I doubt that it will be kept a secret past Monday. Perhaps many already think it so. Many students do not know much about wiccans, but some of them do, and what they know is that wiccans possess a different type of magic than they and that each have their own special power. Now, you are not normal wiccans in the sense that you have only one power. I know each of you possess at least two powers," Chris looked at Wyatt, as did Dumbledore, "or more. You will each pick out one power that you believe most important and, unless there is an emergency, will use only that one power when others can see you."

"What about orbing?" asked Chris.

"Orbing?" questioned Hagrid, speaking for the first time. Wyatt noticed that Snape and McGonagall looked just as confused. To demonstrate, Chris orbed out of his seat and reappeared next to Hagrid, who jumped so badly that his chair splintered. Chris smiled apologetically and orbed back into his seat. Dumbledore was smiling.

"Yes, orbing. It is the power of a whitelighter, if I am not mistaken," said Dumbledore, "and I had hoped that we would keep that a secret. Leo, we'll be telling the students that you are a wizard, which is why your children can learn in a wizarding school." Leo nodded. "Now, as for Paris and Prue, I believe their father was a muggle?" Phoebe nodded. "We can say that he had wizarding blood in his background, or that the children are first generation witches, if you prefer." Phoebe shrugged.

"Wait," said Piper suddenly. "Wyatt has the power to orb, change his shape, sense, heal, and is, in essence, self-healing. These powers all come from his whitelighter heritage. How can we hide the fact that he is self-healing?"

"You'll just have to be careful," said Dumbledore to Wyatt, who nodded. _I always am_, he thought.

"Now that we have sorted everything out, I believe that it is time for bed," said Dumbledore. "Minerva, will you please show Wyatt and Chris to the Gryffindor common room, and Severus, can you please show Paris and Prue to Hufflepuff? I believe that it is on the way to the dungeons." The potions professor grimaced but nodded. After the Halliwells had said their good-byes, they left the office together, each heading to different places.

Once they reached a portrait of a fat lady in a large pink dress, McGonagall told her, "Triquerta." Wyatt was surprised to see the picture actually move as if alive; as if McGonagall had spoken a password, the portrait nodded and swung open, revealing a hole that lead into a bright, comfortable common room. McGonagall directed them to their domitories; Wyatt shared with Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were already asleep, but Ron and Harry were sitting up in their beds, talking to eachother. When Wyatt entered the room, they stopped.

"What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" asked Ron suspiciously as Wyatt crossed the circular room to the only empty bed, which was underneath one of the two windows. Harry hissed at Ron to be polite, but Ron ignored him. Wyatt smiled and pulled off his robes and sweatshirt. He sat on his bed and pulled off his shoes and socks; next, he pulled off his sweatpants. Harry looked faintly embarrassed and looked away, but Ron continued to stare at him suspiciously as he moved underneath the covers.

"Just some stuff about classes and schedules and things," he said. "Night." That said, he pulled the curtains around his bed shut. He held out his hand and a bright, glowing orb appeared over it; it floated up to give him light. He uncovered the vile, which he had held in his other hand. Uncorking it, he downed half of the contents and laid back, wincing at the taste. _Paris makes better potions that this_, he thought, before he fell asleep, for the first time without visions. The light vanquished itself, and all was dark.

* * *

To my loyal reader(s) and reviewer(s):

Ladida: I'm glad that you liked the chapter; I thought their first meeting went perfectly, too. You're not the only one who wants Harry to be the more dominant one. I'm taking your request to heart and I'll try to fit it in. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll try to update as soon as I can! Thank you for reviewing!

Falconwingdiving: I didn't understand the first part of your review, but I'm happy that you liked the chapter (and I wish you good luck in getting the internet at home!). Thanks for liking my story! You want Harry to be the more manly one, too? Like I said above, I'll try to fit it in. I hope that you didn't feel tortured, and I'll try to update soon. Thanks for the review!

To those reading but not reviewing:

Please review! I'm glad that I'm getting more reviews, but I'd like more. I understand that you may not like my story, but if you don't, please tell me what's wrong with it, even if it means insulting me; I have a very thick skin. However, like I said in the last few chapters, if you are going to complain about slash or about the couples, don't bother, because I won't bother dignifying your comment with a response. I already warned you that it was slash and that said slash involved Harry Potter and Wyatt Halliwell, so please leave this out of your comments, unless it is to say that you actually think it's a good couple or that it's at least an original one.


	6. C5: Friday

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Chapter 5: **The Longest Weekend

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. However, nobody really knows what Wyatt saw except for him. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that could not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** How long has it been? I know! Over two months. Sorry for the ridiculously long wait, but now that I'm settled in my new bedroom with my _own_ computer, I can get back to this story. This chapter took me hours to write, and I'm sick, so I hope that you enjoy it. **I DID NOT CHECK IT FOR SPELLING ERRORS**, so, if you happen to find one, please tell me. It's stupid of me not to check it over, but my head is pounding and I have to get in the shower because I have to go pick out a desk. I promise that the next chapter will be up soon, hopefully before the new year, because I have a long time off from school during which I have nothing else to do. Please, enjoy, and, once again, sorry for the wait!

**Current Chapter:** Chapter 5 - Friday

* * *

Wyatt was in a foul mood. Thursday had been a pleasent day; he had completely forgotten about the potion he had taken the night before, and had spent the day exploring the castle with his family, but he had awoken Friday morning to Chris orbing into his bed in the early morning hours, nearly vanquished him, and then had to deal with the questioning looks of his roommates who, luckily, had not seen his lapse of control but had been confused as to why he had reacted so badly to his own brother waking him up.

He had kicked Chris out of his bedroom, at the same time telling him to wait in the common room for him, so that they could go down to breakfast together. Harry was avoiding him after their odd conversation and the revelation that he was gay, but Wyatt had ran into him on his way to the bathroom. Harry had blushed crimson and mumbled hello before fleeing down the winding staircase. Wyatt was distracted by the fact that Harry had on a long-sleeved shirt that said _Forty Licks_ with a picture of a glittering tongue underneath the words. _A Rolling Stones fan. Good. We can talk about music,_ thought Wyatt as, after taking a quick shower, he changed into his clothes for the day: a pair of semi-loose jeans and a shirt with the sleeves ripped off, which featured a picture of Slash from Guns N' Roses, with his top hat in place and a cigarette dangling from his lips. _Slash_ was written across the back in slashing letters.

After brushing his hair and teeth, he left the bathroom, made his bed, and pocketed his wand. On his way down to the common room, he racked his brain for any spells or knowledge that he hadn't had the night before, but was confused when he couldn't remember anything new.

The common room, however, once he had reached it, was completely empty save for a few third years that were giggling over a magazine on their way through the portrait hole. His bangs flew up as he sighed, and he walked from the room, mentally yelling out to his brother when he realized, to his chargin, that the third years had disappeared and he now had no way of getting to breakfast. _Christopher!_

A surprised scream was the only reply he received through the mental link that he and his younger brother shared. After several moments, Chris loudly yelled, _Don't do that! You made me spill my orange juice all over Ginny!_ Wincing, Wyatt continued walking down one hallway, and then another, and another, until he was hopelessly lost. _Wow! I didn't even realize that I knew the spell to clean up spills until now. I thought that the potion hadn't worked, but when I asked Dumbledore, he said that I would know when I needed. Wierd guy, Dumbledore._

Wyatt snapped back, _Enough about Dumbledore, Chris. Why did you leave? I'm lost!_

Chris sounded both confused and mischievous when he replied, _Wait, you're lost? What happened? I thought Harry was still in the tower. Ron and Hermione said that he told them he had some stuff to take care of before he came down for breakfast. I thought you could come down together._

Wyatt stopped short, nearly stumbling over his black-booted feet. He found himself in frount of a stone wall, and glared at it, ridiculously annoyed when the stone didn't explode or make a sign to show that it knew it was being glared at the twice-blessed child, but remained solid and inanimate. _Oh, I see now. Stop doing whatever you're doing, Chris. Harry is not gay, and you're embarrassing me. I'm acting like an idiot and you're making it worse._

_Don't patronize me, brother. I know these things. I knew you were gay before you told me. Harry _has_ to be gay, because he blushes when you so much as look at him._

_Maybe he's shy,_ Wyatt said in defense of Harry.

Chris ignored him. _And, if you're embarrassed, big brother, it means that you like him, too. I'm sorry to rain on your parade, or whatever, but you're acting like an idiot because you have feelings for him. I knew it. Go Chris, go Chris, it's your birthday. By the way, what are you getting me for my birthday? It's real soon you kn- HEY! WAIT!_

Blushing, grateful that nobody was around to see him stamping his foot against the floor like a young child that had been told he couldn't stay up past his bedtime to watch more television, Wyatt severed his connection to Chris, whose last words were _You can't ignore me _or_ him forever, bro!_

As Wyatt lamented on his bad fortune and began to consider orbing downstairs into a closet or some other hidden nook in the castle that was closer to the Great Hall, he heard a noise behind him, and tensed. When he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a hand reaching towards him, he let out a yell like a wild animal and, grabbing the hand, he flipped his "attacker" over his shoulder.

"Harry!" he cried out in surprise when he saw that it was indeed Harry Potter, an envelope clutched in his other hand, that he had thrown to the ground. Harry blinked in a manner reminiscent of an owl in the dark and stared up at him, frozen on the floor, a shocked expression on his face. His glasses hung off one ear. Wyatt, looking embarrassed, kneeled over him, and, leaning his face so close to Harry's that his neatly combed hair brushed the other's forehead, he asked, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" _Telepathy. From now on I check my surroundings with my telepathy. Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Wyatt thought. He could tell because of his empathy that Harry was not too badly hurt, but was embarrassed, shocked, and impressed.

"Do they teach you to do that in American schools?" the dark-haired young man asked in a slightly breathless, strained voice, his expression changing swiftly from one of shock to one of embarrassment, and turning dark, dark red.

Wyatt leaned back and chuckled, releaved that Harry wasn't angry or hurt. Harry smiled only slightly, just a barely noticeable quirk of his lips, in response. Standing up, Wyatt extended a hand to the prone Gryffindor; Harry hesitated for only a second before taking Wyatt's warm hand with his own cold one, and allowed Wyatt to pull him to his feet. Once he was standing, he leaned against the wall that had stopped Wyatt, clutching his chest. "No," Wyatt told him, grinning, "they don't. Phoebe taught me that."

"I would hate to meet Professor Halliwell-Dean in a dark alley then," Harry said, wheezing slightly. The grin Wyatt had been sporting faded quickly and he looked at the brunette in concern. Harry looked back at him, fixed his glasses, and told him that he was fine. "Are you lost?" he asked, straightening his clothes and looking embarrassed again. Wyatt nodded and Harry said, "I'll show you to the Great Hall, but you have to come with me to the owlery first, if you don't mind. I have to send a letter."

"That's okay," said Wyatt. "Thank you," he said after a moment. Harry nodded and, without another word, he took off down the hall. Wyatt jogged up after him and, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he asked, "Do you like the Rolling Stones?"

"Did the shirt give it away?" asked Harry, looking relieved. Wyatt smiled and Harry nodded. "Yes, I do." There was another uncomfortable pause, and then Harry spoke. "You're a Guns N' Roses fan?" Wyatt looked at him as if confused how Harry had found that out. "Your shirt, this time. That is Slash, right? One of the guitarists."

Wyatt nodded, looking embarrassed himself. He picked at the hem of his shirt as they reached the owlery, a giant domed room, the floor of which was covered in hay and owl droppings. Owls dozed high up in the rafters and on perches, and Harry called down a beautiful, snowy white owl. "It's too bad what happened to them." Wyatt gave him a questioning look, but Harry was stroking the owl, which was perched on his arm, and cooing.

"Is that your owl?" Wyatt asked as Harry tried to tie the letter to the offered leg with only one hand. Wyatt smiled and moved to help him, and Harry nodded as Wyatt tied the letter to the owl. "This is Hedwig," said Harry, and Hedwig hooted affectionately and hopped onto Wyatt's shoulder, nuzzling his ear with her beak. Wyatt winced but otherwise made no objection. "That's weird. She's usually wary of strangers." For some reason, Harry looked more open now, and Wyatt figured that his owl's judgement was very important to him. He smiled and pat Hedwig. "She likes you," and he laughed as Hedwig began to pick at his hair.

"Make her stop! Make her stop!" Wyatt cried, alarmed. _Anything but the hair!_ Harry stopped laughing and shooed Hedwig away. She looked miffed and pecked at his hand before swooping out of the window. Harry rolled his eyes and looked back to see a horrified Wyatt trying to smooth down his hair. He got most of the pieces back in place, but missed one piece in the back that was standing straight up. Harry grinned madly. "Don't be so alarmed, Alfalfa," he said, and reached over and patted the strand of hair down. Wyatt looked at him weirdly and Harry flushed. He looked away and said, "Come on, breakfast is almost over," and promptly sprinted out of the room.

Wyatt caught up with him halfway down the next corridor. Harry was silent for the rest of the walk, despite Wyatt's attempt at making him talk about various things, from the Rolling Stones to classwork. Harry finally spoke as they reached the Great Hhall, saying simply, "I hate Professor Snape, and he hates me," when Wyatt asked what he thought of the greasy-haired potions master.

Chris was grinning madly at them when they sat down side-by-side in between he and Hermione. "Hello, Chris. Lovely choice of breakfast. Eyeballs?" said Wyatt, and the sausage he was about to eat promptly turned into an eyeball. Chris let out a wild yell and flung the eyeball away. It landed in Parvati's coffee and she let out a creech, knocking the mug away from herself. It smashed into a dozen pieces and the coffee spilled all over the table, while the eyeball rolled into Seamus Finnegan's lap. Seamus picked it up, and it changed back into a very soggy piece of sausage. Grinning madly, Seamus popped it into his mouth. The Gryffindors either laughed or groaned in disgust.

Chris was glaring at Wyatt, who was too busy laughing with Harry and Ron to notice. "You're so annoying, Wyatt," the youngest male Halliwell snarled, elbowing Wyatt in the ribs. Wyatt stopped laughing and glared back, but snapped around when Hermione asked him how he had done that. Wyatt grinned and lifted up the hand that was hidden under the table. It bore his wand. "Magic, Hermione. Magic," he said simply, twirling his wand between his fingers. It emitted several red sparks that landed in a bowl of pudding, which subsequently burst into flame. Wyatt, alarmed, dropped his wand, and Hermoine sighed and put the fire out with a swish of her own wand.

"Please be careful, Mr. Halliwell," a stern voice said, and Wyatt leaned his head back so that he found himself staring upside-down at Professor McGonagall, who raised an eyebrow. She held out a piece of square paper and said, "Your schedule for Monday." Wyatt smiled sheepishly and took it, and she continued on to the next person.

"Damn," moaned Ron, looking at his own schedule before comparing it with Harry's. "At least we have the same classes, but we have potions first thing on Monday morning."

"At least it's not last thing Friday afternoons," said Hermoine smartly, and Harry and Ron nodded. Chris pocketed his own schedule; as a fourth year, there was nobody around to compare it with, while Ron grabbed Wyatt's schedule from his hands. Wyatt was miffed and Hermione was scandalized. "Ronald! That was rude," she said when Ron looked up in surprise.

"Don't do that again, Hermione. You sounded like my mother," said Ron, and the Gryffindors still sitting around them laughed; Hermoine flushed angrily and she, Ginny, and Chris left, leaving the three sixth years sitting together at the emptying table. Ron shrugged and looked at the three schedules. "We have pretty much the same classes, except you have Ancient Runes during one of our empty slots. You took Divination?" he asked, and Wyatt nodded absently, grabbing a piece of cold toast as the bits of uneaten food began to disappear. "Good luck with that, mate."

"What's wrong with Divination?" asked Wyatt, leaning over a blushing Harry in order to inspect the three schedules. Ron was correct; the three boys had almost all the same classes at the same time, except for Ancient Runes. Ron only smiled mysteriously, but Harry said, "You'll see." Shrugging, Wyatt took back his schedule and he, Ron, and Harry left the Great Hall.

Ten minutes later, they had joined Ginny, Hermione, and Chris in an otherwise empty corner of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was reading from a large book, and Ginny was attempting to teach Chris how to play Exploding Snap. Just as it looked as if Chris was going to win, the castle blew up in his face, and he was left blinking dazedly while smoke furled around him. Wyatt laughed along with several other Gryffindors. Chris finally scowled and left for the bathroom. Ginny looked annoyed with her brother for some reason, said, "It's not polite to laugh," and moved to the other side of the common room where several other fifth years were talking.

"I'm thinking about going to Hogsmeade today," Harry said once Ginny was out of earshot, after glancing at Wyatt as if wary of what he would say. Ron immediately agreed to sneak out of the castle, but Hermione slammed her book shut and glared at the two boys crossly. "You can't leave the castle, Harry. It's too dangerous. You remember what Dumbledore said."

"Hermione!" hissed Ron, looking at Wyatt pointedly.

"Wyatt agrees with me, don't you, Wyatt?" she asked him, and Wyatt blinked in confusion. "Why can't Harry leave the castle?" he asked, bewildered. Hermione huffed and stormed up to her dormitory, leaving Wyatt to repeat the question as Chris rejoined them.

"We're leaving the castle?" he asked, looking elated.

"No, me and Harry are leaving the castle," said Ron, pointing to himself and Harry. Harry rolled his eyes at his friend and said, "Harry and I, Ron. Not me and Harry. And Wyatt and Chris can come if they want. They're never been to Hogsmeade before." He grinned at Wyatt. "You have to see Zonko's Joke Shop. They have the coolest pranks and joke kits."

"Oh, and Honeydukes," said Ron, looking a little offended with Harry. "Shelves upon shelves of candy as far as the eye can see!" he said, grinning in remembrance of the candy shop. An evil grin spread across Wyatt's face and Chris groaned; Harry and Ron looked at the two brothers in alarm. "Did you have to say candy? When Wyatt has too much sugar he goes crazy."

"I do not!" said Wyatt, offended and embarrassed as Harry grinned at him.

"Yes, you do. Don't you remember when you had those candy bars last summer?" he asked, and looked mischeivously at Harry and Ron. "He was _literally_ bouncing _off the ceiling_!" Harry and Ron laughed. Wyatt flushed pink and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, and there was this one time, when he had a whole bag of lollipops, and he ran through the streets in only his-"

"SHUT UP!" roared Wyatt. Chris completely ignored him and said, "He told us that he was a ballerina." Ron howled with laughter and Harry snickered. Wyatt's only comfort was that Chris hadn't told them exactly _what_ he had been wearing. "I was nine and those lollipops were drugged!"

"No, they weren't," said Chris. "Mom only told you that to make you feel better. I heard her talking to dad after they sediated you." Chris started laughing along with the other two and Wyatt growled. In an attempt to change the subject, he asked, "When are we going to Hogsmeade, then?"

"You're really going to go, Harry?" asked Hermione, who had suddenly popped up behind the armchair that Chris had collapsed in. Stunned by her arrival, Harry only nodded. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, Hermione, but please don't tell Dumbledore," he pleaded. "I haven't done anything fun since..." he trailed off, and Hermione nodded in understanding. "I'm coming with you," she said, shocking the three of them. At their looks, she blushed and said, "Somebody has to protect you." Harry nodded knowingly and Ron beamed. "When are we going?" she asked.

"I'll just get the map and we can go right now," said Harry. The four boys ran up to their dormitories, Chris leaving them on the landing just below their own. As Ron grabbed a thin cloak and Harry grabbed a large, black jacket, Wyatt rummaged through his dresser until he found a sweatshirt; it was black and said Guns N' Roses on the front, and had a picture of the band on the back.

"You really like Guns N' Roses, don't you?" asked Harry. Wyatt smiled and nodded, but Ron asked, "What's Guns N' Roses?" Harry told him not to worry about it. When they reached the common room, Chris was waiting for them. He was wearing a sweatshirt, too. Just as they reached the landing, Hermione and Ginny came running down the stairs to the girls dormitories. Ron asked what Ginny thought she was doing, and Hermione said, "She's coming with us, Ronald. Don't complain."

"I'll tell if you won't let me come," said Ginny snidely, and Ron only rolled his eyes in exasperation. Ginny, who had never gone to Hogsmeade when she wasn't allowed, was just as confused as to where they were going as Chris and Wyatt were. Harry tapped the parchment he had been expecting and said, "Mischeif managed." They had reached a deserted hallway with a statue of a one-eyed witch. Hermione tapped the witch and said, "Dissendium."

Wyatt grinned and Chris said, "Cool," as the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. The six friends glanced around once more before Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed into the statue, Ron having a little trouble due to his tall height, and they were followed quickly by Ginny, Chris, and finally, Wyatt. They slid down what felt like a stone slid and landed on cold, damp earth.

Everyone held up their wands and whispered, "_Lumos_." Six small lights blazed, and it was revealed to the three who hadn't seen this passageway before that it was long, narrow, and earthy. The passge twisted and turned, and it felt like hours before they managed to reach a staircase. Wyatt counted approximately four hundred and twelve steps before the others stopped. Ron was rubbing his head and scowling; Harry smiled and pushed a trapdoor open, which Ron appeared to have hit his head on, and peered over the edge before he climbed through and motioned for the others to follow. They quickly ran up a wooden staircase, through a door, and into Honeydukes.

Wyatt's eyes bulged. "Oh. I'm having chocolate tonight!" he said, but before he could grab anything, Chris had grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt and said in a patronizing tone of voice, "Do you really want to expose the poor Hogwartians to yourself when you're hyped up on sugar products, my dear brother?" Wyatt glared at him crossly while Ron and Harry laughed knowingly. Ginny and Hermione only appeared confused. "If you can expose them to your ugly face, I can eat chocolate." Now Ginny giggled, but stopped when Chris looked at her with a mock expression of hurt.

The gang split up into two groups, Chris following after Ginny and Hermione towards one end of the shop while Harry, Ron, and Wyatt headed towards another. Wyatt, grinning, grabbed loads of chocolate, several Fizzing Whizbees (which he put back when he learned what they were made of), a pack of sugar quills, and finally a bag of blood-flavored lollipops. "Are you going to eat those?" asked Ron suspiciously.

"Are they really blood-flavored?" he asked, to which Ron nodded. Sighing explosively, he put them back on the shelf. "Weird," he said simply, before grabbing a bag of simple, flavor-changing lollipops. They looked through the shelves once more and then met Hermione, Ginny, and Chris, who had just paid for their candy, at the counter. Chris looked embarrassed as Hermione said, "You can pay me back later."

Wyatt grinned and paid for his own candy. Ron paid for the little he had gotten, but Harry's eyes widened. "I forgot my money, too!" he said, looking distressed. Before Hermione had a chance to roll her eyes and pay, Wyatt flipped the two galleons onto the counter and said, "Don't worry. It's on me." Chris and Ginny both snorted, while Ron looked suspicious and Harry seemed embarrassed. "I'll give you the money when we get back to school," he mumbled as he took his bag. Wyatt rolled his eyes and said, "I said it's on me." Chris looked at the astonished Harry and said, "He's always like this. You'll get used to it." Harry looked at the two brothers suspiciously, but finally nodded.

Three hours and many shops later, the six friends collapsed in a booth in the Three Broomsticks. Hermione gathered money from Ginny, Ron, and Wyatt, taking the extra money for Chris and Harry from Wyatt on his insistence, and went to order the drinks. "That was fun," said Chris, looking positively giddy. "I can't wait to show mom the Can o' Snakes."

"You'll give her a heart attack," said Wyatt, but he had been thinking the same thing. Wyatt discovered pleasently that butterbeer tasted nothing like butter or beer (which Chris found disappointing). While they drank, Wyatt and Chris discussed classes with Hermione, and Ginny and Ron argued with Harry over a game they called quidditch.

"I don't see why Dumbledore won't let you back on the team," Ron was saying. Ginny nodded in agreement and said, "Umbridge is gone and she was the one that banned you."

"What's quidditch?" asked Chris, effectively ending the arguement. The three began to explain quidditch in a rush of words and elaborate hand gestures, leaving Chris confused. Wyatt followed the conversation as long as he could, but lost the thread five minutes after they had begun talking.

It was another hour before they climbed out of the one-eyed witch and into the empty hallway. Quickly, as dinner had started ten minutes before, they ran to Gryffindor tower, put their belongings away, shed their coats, and then ran down to the Great Hall, bursting in short of breath.

The hall was silent and so they made quite a lot of noise. Dumbledore was standing at the Head Table, a disappointed and saddened expression on his face. Embarrassed, the six Gryffindors squeezed into seats in the middle of the table side-by-side, and Dumbledore waited until they were settled until he began to speak again. Wyatt glanced at his mother and saw that she looked angry.

"We're in for it," he whispered to Chris, who looked up and cringed when he saw the expression on his mother's face. Dumbledore glanced at Wyatt, and then adressed the hall. "It is my sorrow to inform you that, earlier today, Diagon Alley was attacked by Death Eaters." Whispers spread through the Great Hall like wild fire, and Wyatt saw Harry pale and clench his fists. "There were elven casualities, and over a hundred were injured. I understand if you are worried about your families, and that is why I pushing back curfew from nine to ten so that you can all establish contact. I hope that we can all learn from this." He looked at the Gryffindor table, specifically, at the six that had snuck out, and sat back down.

Ron and Ginny had paled and were shaking. "Fred and George work in Diagon Alley. We have to-" however, just as Ron began to speak, an owl shot through one of the windows and hurtled towards the table, smashing into a jug of pumpkin juice and landing in a bowl of treacle tart. "Errol!" said Ron, looking relieved. He took the letter from the aging owl and unfolded it quickly.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Chris, and Wyatt were silent as Ron and Ginny read the letter. When they were finished, Ginny was crying but looked relieved, and Ron had sagged in his chair. "They were taken to St. Mungos, but they're going to be okay. George has a concussion and Fred broke his leg."

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, and then Harry looked up and met Wyatt's eyes. Harry's eyes were dark, a dangerous, blackened green. On his face was an expression of relief, but in his eyes, Wyatt could see a hundred emotions swirling and battling for dominance.

They stared at eachother for a long time, Wyatt examining Harry and Harry trying to figure out what Wyatt thought based on his eyes. They were a clear, pale green. Buried in their depths was an emotion so deep and unique that Harry was too afraid to look further. He wasn't sure what he feared more: finding out what the emotion meant, or finding himself unable to decipher it. Finally, they looked away from eachother, and didn't look back in the same moment for the rest of dinner.

* * *

To my loyal reader(s) and reviewer(s):

_Smilez:_ I'm so happy that you love this fic, and here is your update. Sorry for the long wait. I always complain when the stories I follow haven't been updated in more than a month, and now I've gone and done it myself, again! I hope the wait was worth it!

_Gabif:_ Thank you so much for your kind comment. I just read over my story and noticed several spelling mistakes, so being told that it was well written really made me feel so much better about it. I'm glad that you think it was well written and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

_All the Others:_ Thank you for waiting so patiently for the next chapter, and I hope this makes up for any wrongs I've done by all of you!

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please Review!** I'm surprised that I've had reviews at all, but, like all authors, a couple more wouldn't hurt! If you don't like my story, please leave some constructive criticism, even if you must insult me. Do not tell me that it sucks or complain about the slash, because this will not deter me from writing nor will it offend me. I warned that there would be slash, and it is coming up soon.

And Finally...

**Final Author's Note:** I've just noticed a response where I wrote that I would try to make Harry the more dominant one, but I recently realized that this would completely unseat the story, which I planned out as if Wyatt were the dominant one in the relationship. Maybe it wouldn't make too much of a difference, but I'm going to stick by my original plan unless something changes. I hope that this doesn't disappoint too many people, and that you will continue to read the story. But don't worry - Harry is _not_ going to be effeminate or play the blushing virgin like he does in the other stories I've read, although he does blush quite a lot in the first couple of chapters. He is adjusting to his newfound feelings for _another boy_ and he has to get used to feeling like this, but when he does, be prepared for the change!


	7. C6: Wyatt and Severus

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Chapter 5: **The Longest Weekend

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. However, nobody really knows what Wyatt saw except for him. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that could not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** Wow! Two chapters in one day! I'm on a roll! I've already started the next chapter, but I really don't think I'll be finished with it before the end of the day. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and if you don't, tell me so **in a review**! I looked over it once or twice, fixed some mistakes, and I hope that if I missed any, someone will tell me, although I suppose I make it seem like a spelling mistake is a really huge problem. Also, the songs should be listened to and not just read, although I'm pretty sure that almost all people have heard at least one of the... three Aerosmith songs and two Guns N' Roses songs that Wyatt _and_ Harry will sing in this chapter.

**Current Chapter:** 6 - Wyatt and Severus

**Day:** Monday, September 6th, 2004

* * *

"Are either of you ever going to tell me what Guns N' Roses is?" Ron asked Monday morning during breakfast.

The weekend had passed quickly in a flurry of letters and floo powder. Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione had left Hogwarts early Saturday morning, and while Harry and Hermione had returned later that afternoon, Ron and Ginny had not returned to school until late Sunday night. When Wyatt had politely inquired about the health of the twins, he had learned from Ginny that George had woken up late Saturday and that both he and Fred were doing quite well, and should be released that Wednesday.

Wyatt's weekend had been one of the worst he could remember, and the fun on Friday had not made up for it. Despite his peaceful, dreamless sleep on Thursday night, he had been so plagued with visions Friday night that he had woken up the rest of his dorm at two in the morning, screaming about the attack on Diagon Alley, to which he had guiltily thought _I could have saved them all_ while Neville fetched his parents and McGonagall. Saturday night had been spent, not in his dorm, but in the apartment where his aunts and parents were spending the year, which he had been delighted to learn was an exact replica of the Manor, right down to all the little things, such as the charred spot in the carpet where Chris had vanquished his first demon on his own to the stair that creaked when he put all his weight on it to the demon blood they had stored in the freezer, which had been moved, along with several other things, including pictures and potions ingredients, from the actual Manor to make it more realistic.

Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Harry had been startled Saturday night, and the former three had avoided him all day Sunday because, as Harry had informed Wyatt, his screams had been so detailed that it seemed as if he had actually been in Diagon Alley during the attack, which nobody could disprove without the six of them getting in trouble for leaving the castle. Ron had surprised him by telling all three boys, when he had returned last night, that Wyatt had been with him, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Chris all of Friday.

Dumbledore had spoken to Wyatt that same day, telling him that the three sixth years would question him about his yells, and he had been right. Wyatt had tried to assure them that nothing was amiss, but when Ron and Hermione had started doing all they could to keep Wyatt from speaking to Harry, he had told them that he had very mild Seeing abilities. Although Harry had believed him, Ron and Hermione hadn't, but had figured that they would get no other explanation. Harry had asked him before they had retired what else he would see, to which Wyatt had smirked and responded, "You. All the time."

In the present, however, Wyatt was pulling at his collar and mumbling about his self-expression being stifled in that he wasn't allowed to wear his clothes during classes, but had to wear a uniform, which included a tie. He _hated_ ties, and no matter how many times Harry told him he looked just fine and Hermoine asked him to stop stretching his collar, he continued to pull at his tie and robe.

He perked up when Ron asked about Guns N' Roses, which happened to be his favorite band, despite the fact that they had broken up when he was a toddler. Harry, who sat next to Ron and across from Wyatt, Chris, and Hermione, turned to his friend and said, "It's a muggle band. Hard rock type."

"Hard rock?" asked Ron.

"This has got to be a joke," Wyatt suddenly announced, and the Gryffindors nearest to him turned to him. "Does anyone here, besides Harry and Chris, know about Guns N' Roses?"

"They sing that song," said Seamus helpfully. Harry snorted. Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "I've heard of them. They were an American muggle band that broke up several years ago, when we were very young. I haven't heard any of their music, but I do know that most of the members were junkies and alcoholics." Wyatt, Harry, and Chris nodded, Wyatt beaming proudly as he said, "They're all clean now."

"What do they sound like?" asked Dean.

"Wyatt could sing one of their songs for you," said Chris before Wyatt could suggest they run back to the common room before class and listen to one of the songs quickly. Wyatt turned to glare at Chris. "You can sing?" asked Ron skeptically. Chris nodded, grinning. "Go on, then! Sing some Pistols and Tulips!" said Ginny enthusiastically, and Wyatt groaned while Harry laughed and Chris corrected her patiently.

"What should I sing?" he asked.

Harry immediately suggested November Rain, to which Chris responded that it was too long. Harry then asked for Welcome to the Jungle, which Chris said might cause the three Gryffindors that had avoided his brother to start avoiding him again. They went through a list of songs, Chris shaking his head at each suggestion, before Wyatt asked him what _he_ thought. "Sweet Child o' Mine, of course!" said Chris, rolling his eyes. Harry shrugged, "That's good. They should like it."

"It sounds better with the music," said Wyatt, before he sang.

"She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything

Was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And if I stared too long

I'd probably break down and cry

Sweet child o' mine

Sweet love o' mine

She's got eyes of the bluest skies

As if they thought of rain

I'd hate to look into those eyes

And see an ounce of pain

Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place

Where as a child I'd hide

And pray for the thunder

And the rain

To quietly pass me by

Sweet child o' mine

Sweet love o' mine."

"Should I be worried that he loves someone that he calls his sweet child?" asked Ron, smiling. "Shh!" snapped Harry. "It's not over," added Chris. "I'll sing with you Wyatt." Wyatt shook his head, no. Chris, though quite the talented guitarist, could _not_ sing. "He sounds like Axl Rose," said Harry, and Chris nodded and added, "He can imitate a lot of voices."

"Sweet child o' mine

Sweet love o' mine

Sweet child o' mine

Sweet love o' mine."

Chris began doing his version of the air guitar and both Wyatt and Harry started laughing. "Okay. This is pissing me off." Chris stood up and summoned his guitar, which whizzed through the doors moments after he had waved his wand. "Prepare yourselves." Then, he began to play the break. The song was finished up quickly and everyone applauded. Chris looked quite pleased with himself and sat down. "Sing another one!" said Harry, and Chris held up his hand to play when others agreed with Harry.

"It's time for class," interrupted Hermione, and a disappointed Chris was told to send his guitar away, which he did with little arguement and amongst groans of disappointment. Chris and Ginny headed in one direction once they reached the Entrance Hall, because, although they were in different years, their classrooms were close, and the sixth years climbed downstairs. Wyatt, already in the singing mood, sang some of Welcome to the Jungle.

"Welcome to the Jungle

We take it day by day

If you want it you're gonna bleed

But it's the price you pay

And you're a very sexy girl

That's very hard to please

You can taste the bright lights

But you won't get them for free."

"Who else do you know?" interrupted Harry when the reached the crowd waiting outside of the potions classroom. As per usual, Wyatt would later learn, Hermione dragged everybody to class early. There was at least ten minutes before Snape would get to class, and Seamus told Hermione so, to which she respond better early than late, and he retorted better late than never.

"Oh, loads of different groups," said Wyatt in response. "I know all of the Guns N' Roses songs, some Bon Jovi, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Ozzy Osbourne, Aerosmith..."

"Do you know that song from Armaggedon?" asked Hermione eagerly, and everyone around her looked at her, apparently shocked. She huffed. "I am a muggle-born and I don't spend all my time reading, you know. I do watch movies," she added when the crowd appeared skeptical of her claim. Wyatt only laughed and answered that he did know the song. Hermione asked, "Will you sing it?" Wyatt nodded.

"I could stay awake, just to hear you breathing,

Watch you smile while you are sleeping,

While you're far away and dreaming.

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender.

I could stay lost in this moment, forever.

Well, every moment spent with you

Is a moment I treasure.

I don't wanna close my eyes,

I don't wanna fall asleep,

'Cause I'd miss you, baby,

And I don't wanna miss a thing.

'Cause even when I dream of you,

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, baby,

And I don't wanna miss a thing."

Every couple of seconds, Wyatt would unconciously look, through his bangs, at Harry, who was staring at him with his mouth open slightly and his eyes wide. Hermione had noticed both him looking and Harry staring, and looked a little bewildered, before her eyes widened, too. Ron did not notice.

"Lying close to you,

Feeling your heart beating,

And I'm wondering what you're dreaming,

Wondering if it's me you're seeing.

Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together,

And I just wanna stay with you,

In this moment forever, forever and ever.

I don't wanna close my eyes,

I don't wanna fall asleep,

'Cause I'd miss you, baby,

And I don't wanna miss a thing.

'Cause even when I dream of you,

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, baby,

And I don't wanna miss a thing.

I don't wanna miss one smile,

I don't wanna miss one kiss.

Well, I just wanna be with you

Right here with you, just like this.

I just wanna hold you close,

I feel your heart so close to mine,

And just stay here in this moment

For all the rest of time, yeah."

Unfortunately for Wyatt, Snape unnoticed, had reached the classroom with the Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and others, and several late Hufflepuffs that had made it into the advanced class. Snape had noticed him looking continually from the wall to Harry, and he snapped loudly, "Stop serenading Potter, Halliwell, and get into class."

Wyatt responded the only way he knew how to respond to an insult on such short notice - with another insult. "At least Harry _gets_ serenaded. How long has it been since you were last laid, professor? Long time, I bet." Harry responded by blushing, blushing more, and then biting his lips so as not to laugh. The Slytherins had laughed at Snape's comment, but others were glaring at him. At the retort from Wyatt, however, the laughter stopped, although the Gryffindors tittered.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor!" roared Snape, and, with a final spiteful, loathing glare in the direction of Wyatt, he swept into the classroom, followed quickly by the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. The Gryffindors were the last to enter the classroom, congradulating Wyatt on a job well done as they did so. Wyatt rolled his eyes and said to Harry as they walked into the classroom, "And now I have Pink stuck in my head." Harry grinned, looking slightly uncomfortable, however.

Hermione dragged them as close to the front of the classroom as the three boys were willing to go, and they sat down. Ron, looking suspiciously at Wyatt, said he couldn't see the board correctly, and Harry politely asked if he wanted to switch seats, which meant that both Ron and Hermione were between he and Harry, with Ron directly next to him. While Snape was writing directions on the board, Ron said out of the corner of his mouth, "Stay away from Harry."

Wyatt looked at him crossly, and hissed, "Don't think, Ronald Weasley, for one second that you can order me around." Ron appeared shocked at the sudden change in his mood, but when Harry looked over at the two of them, Wyatt grinned and began to sing Pink under his breath. Harry tried valiantly not to laugh but lost the battle, and Snape immediately snapped around. "Would you like to share something with the class, Halliwell?" he asked.

Wyatt nodded, and, despite Hermione shaking her head desperately, he sang, "Pink, it's my new obsession. Pink, it's not even a question. Pink on the lips of your lover, cause pink is the love you discover." Out of mock respect, he added, "Sir."

If Wyatt thought Snape was going to take away points, he was wrong, because the professor calmly and mocking asked, "Anything else?"

Wyatt was shocked, but he knew that Snape was trying to get him to say something else and cost his house even more points. _How daring. Fool._ But the look Snape was giving him challenged him to even try, and Wyatt never backed down from a challenge. "Just this, sir," said Wyatt. "Pink as the bing on your cherry. Pink, cause you are so very. Pink, it's the color of passion, cause today it just goes with the fashion."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for interrupting my lesson, disrespecting a teacher, and talking out of context," snarled Snape, and all of the Gryffindors glared at Wyatt, with the single exception of Harry, who was staring ahead, his cheeks slightly red. He was embarrassed, Wyatt realized affectionately. "And an extra five points from Gryffindor for your awful singing." The Slytherins laughed.

"He does not sing bad," Harry spat quietly, looking at the board as if he wanted to burn a hole through it, his face heating up quickly. Snape appeared surprised, but he quickly gathered himself, and commented, "Standing up for your _boyfriend_, I see. How sweet."

"Standing up for my _friend_, sir," said Harry, looking up at the professor with such hatred that even Snape was surprised by the intensity of it. Wyatt had to fight it, but Harry eventually gained control, filing the emotions into the back of his mind, pushing them aside. Wyatt shook his head, disappointed with Harry for ignoring yet another emotion. Snape spoke. "The potion that you will be making is one so easy that I'd expect a first year to be able to get it right." He sneered at some of the Gryffindors.

"It is a potion that was made in the early eighteen hundreds by the older brother of a miserable squib." The Slytherins laughed. Hermione was busy taking detailed notes. Ron was still glaring ahead, and Harry had relaxed somewhat, although he was still tense. "It would be smart to remember that the violet color you will see in your test tube is the amount of magic within a person that he or she cannot use unless in dire situations, while the purple demonstrates the magic that a person can use easily. You will notice that all of the potions vary. This should be completed before the end of the lesson. The directions are on the board." He sneered here. "The Headmaster has assured me that you are capable of selecting your own partners, so get going!" he barked.

Hermione immediately parterned up with a flustered Neville, while Wyatt looked around the classroom for a partner. He was surprised when he heard Ron yell, "What!?" and whirled around to see that he and Harry were glaring at eachother. Harry ignored him and turned to Wyatt, who raised both of his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said, and Ron gave him a hurt look before he stomped across the room towards Seamus, Dean, and Parvati, nearly knocking over Wyatt while doing so.

"Ron!" said Hermione, scandalized. Wyatt sighed, and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. Harry sat next to him, already having acquired the ingredients. "Sorry about that," he told Wyatt, and the blonde shrugged. "Why did you say to him?" Wyatt asked, spelling a fire underneath the cauldron of water with his wand. "I told him that I wanted to work with you, because it was your first day and all," he added quickly, reddening. Wyatt nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Harry." Harry nodded.

They worked in silence, and when Snape made a comment about the color of their potion, Wyatt banished some of the purple rose petals, which Harry had accidentally added to much of, from the potion. It immediately lightened to the right shade of red, and Harry hadn't even noticed two of the eight petals disappearing. Harry looked confused, but shrugged and said cheerfully, "Snape was wrong." Wyatt snorted and added the nightshade to the potion, before glancing up at the board again.

"What the hell? That can't be right," he mumbled aloud, noticing that, underneath nightshade, the words _single eye of newt_ were written. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry lift the offending ingredient and make as if to throw it into a potion. With a wild yell, he leapt at Harry, knocking him to the floor. The eye of newt he had been holding rolled away harmlessly. Harry, shocked, stared up at Wyatt, who was leaning close to his face, seated on his stomach, and glaring at him. Wyatt distantly heard Snape tell him that his classroom floor was not a bed, but ignored him. "Don't do that, ever!" Wyatt cried.

"Do what?" Harry yelled back, struggling to get out from under Wyatt, who stood up. Harry rolled onto his stomach, grabbed the eye of newt, and stood, preparing to add the eye of newt once again. Wyatt immediately grabbed the hand that held it with both of his own, preventing Harry from add the last ingredient. "What is it?" Harry asked. His face was burning.

"Yes, Halliwell, please, do share," a snide voice ordered, very close to Wyatt's ear. Wyatt did not jump and he did not let go of Harry's hand. He looked over his shoulder at the professor and yelled, "You have got to be the most sadistic _creature_ that I have ever met in my entire life! Even my little sister knows that you don't add nightshade and eye of newt together!"

"Unless you want to lose Gryffindor another fifty points, Halliwell, I suggest that you tell me why, now," growled Snape, lips peeled back to bare yellowed teeth. Wyatt took a deep breath and said, "Because it will create an explosion." He took the eye of newt from Harry, and dragged him away from the potion, before tossing the ingredient into the potion. Immediately, he pushed Harry behind himself, turned his head away, and brought his arms up to block his face. Harry started to ask what he was doing, but was interrupted when the eye of newt hit the dark magenta liquid.

A huge explosion rocked the classroom, causing several students to fall out of their chairs and scream. Harry fell to the ground and landed solidly on his butt, with Wyatt landing a second later in his lap. He yelped at the sudden intrustion of his personal space.

The smoke cleared. Several students were lying on the floor, their hands over their eyes. Wyatt craned his neck to see the potion, and discovered that it was the exact shade of violet that Snape had described. He smirked at the professor, ignoring the fact that Harry was trying to get him out of his lap, and waited for Snape to admit what he had done. "Five points to Gryffindor. If you ever interrupt my class like that again, however, Mr. Halliwell, I will not give points, but take them." Addressing the class, he said, "Remember to step away from your cauldron when you add the eye of newt," and then he turned and stalked over to Malfoy, who was caught under a shrieking Pansy Parkinson.

"Wyatt!" Harry finally cried. Wyatt sensed that Harry was in a state of shock, terror, panic, and sudden arousal, and moved so as not to embrass him. He grinned as Harry stood up and brushed off his clothes for the second time. "Thank you," he said, looking at the potion, "for saving me." Wyatt smiled brilliantly and said, "Any time, Harry."

Harry flushed red as he sat in his seat, and he transferred the potion into two test tubes. "Here you go," he said, handing Wyatt one of the test tubes. Wyatt reached out and, as he took it, his fingers brushed over the brunette's. Harry nearly dropped the test tube, and both of them blushed this time. "Thanks," Wyatt said. Harry nodded. "Now what do we do?" asked Harry. Wyatt glanced at the board, but there weren't any other directions. He looked down at the test tube, and said, "I don't know, but we probably have to spit in it or add a drop of our blood or something." Harry grimaced.

They waited until Professor Snape said, "If you are all done with your potions, ladle them into your test tubes, and prick your finger with a pin that I will provide. Do not share the pins. Do not share blood. Leave the pins on the desks when you are finished, and I will remove them." He waved his wand and two pins appeared on every desk where students sat.

"I agree with you," said Harry, picking up the pin, which was rather large and very sharp. "What was that?" asked Wyatt, distracted. He was glaring at Snape, who glanced over at him and smirked. _Ass,_ thought Wyatt angrily. He only wanted to see what Wyatt would do. "About Snape being sadistic," said Harry, and Wyatt glanced around and nodded. "Cheers," he said, putting the tube in a holder and holding up the pin. Swiftly and without warning, he pricked himself in the finger. A drop of blood appeared on his skin, and he held it over the test tube. It fell in.

"It should take one minute for the results to process fully," said Snape, but the liquid in Wyatt's test tube had turned a very dark purple the second his blood had touched it. "Professor!" called Harry. "I think something happened to our potion," he said when Snape looked in his direction. Scowling, the professor walked over to their table, and held up Wyatt's test tube for everyone to see. "You must be a very special young man, Mr. Halliwell," he said, grinning nastily.

"Evil. Pure evil," mumbled Wyatt as the professor replaced his potion and walked away. He turned to Harry, who was looking at him suspciously, and said, "Your turn, Har," and Harry looked at him for a moment longer as if shocked by what he had been called, and then pricked himself in the middle finger. With a cheerful grin, he curled all his other fingers into his palm, and held his middle finger over the potion, which was, quite accidentally, of course, directed at Snape. Wyatt laughed.

Most of Harry's potion was dark purple, although the top remained violet and a few threads of lighter purple swirled through the dark when the minute was up. "You must be a very special young man, Mr. Potter," said a smiling Wyatt, in a poor but offensive intimation of Snape. Harry shook his head and said, "Evil. Pure evil," with a grin. Wyatt smiled.

The rest of the class had either hesitated or were not as powerful as the two of them, because they were still waiting for their potions to change. Hermione was holding a handkerchief to her bleeding finger, which she seemed to have pricked too badly, and trying to convince a shaking Neville that it didn't hurt.

"Hmm," mumbled Wyatt, who was in a rather good mood at the moment. "That kind of lovin'," he sang, quietly so as not to attract the attention of Snape, "makes me wanna pull down the shade, yeah. That kind of lovin'. Yeah, now I'm never, never, never, never gonna be the same." Harry rolled his eyes and surprised Wyatt by singing the next part, and rather well, too. "I go crazy, crazy, baby, I go crazy. You turn it on, then you're gone. Yeah, you drive me crazy, crazy, crazy, for you baby. What can I do, honey. I feel like the color blue..."

"You're an Aerosmith fan?" asked Wyatt. Harry nodded and grinned, "Their music is second only to the Rolling Stones," which promptly started a playful arguement over the best bands in the rock, hard rock, and metal genres of music that lasted until the bell rang. Wyatt liked more hard rock and metal, although Harry had teased him when he had admitted to being a big fan of Bon Jovi ("It's my mom's fault," Wyatt had mumbled, blushing), while Harry liked softer rock and very little hard rock, and absolutely no metal.

"Ron," said Harry, trying to catch up to the redhead, who ignored him and left quickly with Seamus and Dean. The latter two looked apologetically at their roommates and then followed Ron. "He'll get over," said Hermione, noticing Harry's crestfallen expression. "I'll meet you guys in the next class," said Wyatt, before jogging away without explaining. Paris had lost control of her empathy again, and was crying for his help through their mental bond.

"Why can't Ron just get along with him?" Harry asked Hermione as Wyatt disappeared up the stairs. Hermione looked at Harry with a guarded expression, and asked, "Do you want them to get along?" Harry looked at her as if she had missed something. "Of course I do. They're both my friends and I'd hate to have to choose between them." Hermione looked alarmed. "We just met Wyatt four days ago, Harry! You can't be serious."

"I am serious, Hermione," said Harry. "It's just... I don't know. I want Wyatt to be my friend and I want Ron to be okay with that." Hermione was quiet, and then said softly, "Because you like Wyatt." Harry nodded. "Not like that, Harry," said Hermione. "You _like_ Wyatt."

Harry stumbled and whirled on her. "I don't know what you're trying to imply, Hermione, but I do not like Wyatt in the way that you're suggesting, and I can't believe that you'd even make that assumption!" he said, sounding angry and slightly panicked. Hermione started to speak, "It's alright if you do, Har-" but Harry interrupted her, saying loudly, "Drop it, Hermione."

"Harry," pleaded Hermione, "talk to me."

"I said drop it, Hermione," said Harry, before walking quickly away from her towards the Wiccan Magic classroom. Hermione sighed. _Oh, Harry_.

* * *

To my loyal reader(s) and reviewer(s):

Too soon for reviews from the last chapter! I hope that everyone who waited is satisfied! Two chapters in one day should make up for two months lost! **Also,** Chris is **fourteen,** and turning **fifteen.** His birthday, I believe, is in late November on the show, but I have changed it to early December. He missed the cut-off date by mere hours. Poor guy. One of my **former** friends was born the second, and my sister, who turned twelve before all of her friends, was born on the sixth.

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please Review!** I'm surprised that I've had reviews at all, but, like all authors, a couple more wouldn't hurt! If you don't like my story, please leave some constructive criticism, even if you must insult me. Do not tell me that it sucks or complain about the slash, because this will not deter me from writing nor will it offend me. I warned that there would be slash, and it is coming up soon.

Final Words:

This was written while I was listening to Aerosmith, Guns N' Roses, Led Zeppelin, and AC/DC. As you may or may not have noticed, Wyatt and Harry listen to my favorite bands. I would also like to take this time to wish a happy birthday to all of the artists who turned another year older these past two months, but as I don't have my cell phone (which lists most of the birthdays of my favorite artists), I can't tell you which. I'm pretty sure that Nikki Sixx just had a birthday, though. grins


	8. C7: The Wiccans

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. However, nobody really knows what Wyatt saw except for him. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that could not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** There was a lot of music in the last chapter, I know, but it was one of the ways that the boys really connect, and, as Dumbledore comments in the first book, _music is a magic beyond all others._ I listened to Aerosmith and Motley Crue while writing this, and you should notice the influence. _He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood..._ Ahem. I'm sorry that this chapter is so short, and I will _try_ and make the next one, in which Wyatt and Harry will talk, Ron and Wyatt will yell, Harry will cry, and Malfoy will make a cameo, longer. I also just noticed that, underneath my penname in the last two chapters were the words _Chapter 5 - The Longest Weekend_. Please ignore this; it was the original name for chapter 5, but I changed it at the last moment when I moved the summary of the weekend to chapter 6. Sorry for any confusion and enjoy!

**Current Chapter:** Chapter 7 - The Wiccans

**Day:** Monday, September 6th (see below), 2004

**Author's Note Two:** Yes, it should be the fifth in the story, but I if you go back to the other chapters, you'll see that I changed the days to fit in with the calendar. Sorry for the misunderstanding!

* * *

_What did you say to him, Hermione_, Wyatt thought angrily as he slammed his books onto a desk at the front of the Wiccan Magic classroom. He looked back the rear of the classroom and saw Harry turn his head away quickly. The brunette was surrounded by Gryffindors, and seemed to have reconciled with Ron, because the redhead was sitting on his left, making wide gestures with his hands. Occasionly, he would loudly shout something along the lines of _take the left_, or _bludger in his face._ Wyatt did not know what to make of the conversation. What he did know, however, was that Hermione had said something to Harry that the green-eyed Gryffindor hadn't liked, and he was now angry with her and avoiding him for some reason. Hermione sat by herself in the very back of the classroom, ignored.

"Something on your mind, Wye?" asked Phoebe with a knowing grin, as she dropped into the empty seat on his right. Wyatt turned his head back around to face the front of the classroom, a scowl on his face. Family-wise, Phoebe was the only other one who knew he was gay. She had discovered it on her own with the help of her empathy. Wyatt shook his head and Phoebe glanced over her shoulder, before turning back. "It's smokin' in the boys' room, I see," she said teasingly, wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

"Sexual innuendo with a Motley Crue song. Two words: not funny," said Wyatt, distracted. Hermione had just stood up and was walking quickly towards the front of the classroom. Appearing exasperated, Phoebe said, "I was not making an innuendo with my sixteen-year-old nephew in hearing distance." Her grin spoke otherwise. As Hermione neared, the short-haired Halliwell stood. As she walked away, Wyatt grinned and half-shouted to her, "And next time you want to make an innuendo with a Motley Crue reference, use Dr. Feelgood." Phoebe laughed, but the other students stared at him.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" asked a voice suddenly, and Wyatt looked around to see Hermione already settling herself in the seat that Phoebe had just vacated. In a flash, his grin had disappeared, replaced by a scowl. Without answering, he slapped his wand down on the table and stared straight ahead. Next to him, Hermione appeared bewildered. "What is it?"

Just as his mother stood up and the late bell rang, Wyatt ground out, "What did you say to Harry, Granger?" Hermione blinked, startled. _You're not supposed to know that she said anything to him. Stupid_, Wyatt thought to himself. Hermione gathered herself quickly and said, "I don't know how you could possibly know that I said anything to him at all, _Halliwell_, but what I said is none of your business." Wyatt glanced at her and growled. "It is my business if he starts ignoring me," he said, and, in a soft, pleading voice that surprised even himself, he added, "You don't understand." Hermione managed to whisper, "I think I do, Wyatt," before his mother began speaking.

"Ahem," said Piper, looking in the direction of him and Hermione. Wyatt straightened, flashed a wide smile of encouragement, and then slumped in his seat as soon as his mother had turned away. Nervously, Piper began, "Welcome to Wiccan Magic." She smiled at the students, the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Paige seemed unaffected, but her experiences as a teacher made this understandable. Phoebe was beaming, and Wyatt knew that her empathy had picked up on the excited emotions of the other students, which he had blocked. He did not want to be excited. He was not happy. "My name is Piper, and I don't want to be called Professor, got it?" The students nodded. "But you," she said jokingly, pointing at Wyatt, "still have to call me mom." Wyatt grimaced as the students laughed.

A sudden rush of air caused all of his hair to fly into his eyes. Hermione was bouncing in her seat, her hand in the air. "If this is wiccan magic, are you wiccans?" she asked as soon as she had been called on. Some of the students appeared not to understand what Hermione had meant, while others perked up in interest. As soon as the class had been silenced, Paige said, "A wiccan is a witch who channels her power through her body, and not through a wand. Piper will demonstrate."

Immediately, Piper lifted up a golden plate that appeared to have been swiped from the Great Hall, and tossed it into the air in a manner reminiscent of a frisbee being thrown. She flicked her wrists at it, and the plate froze in the middle of the classroom, suspended magically, unmoving. She flicked her wrists again after giving the students a moment to gasp in awe, and the plate exploded. Several students clapped, including an excited Hermione, who asked, "What powers do Professor Matthews and Professor Halliwell-Dean have?"

As Phoebe explained, "I have the power of premonition, which means that I can see the future, usually when I touch something that is somehow connected to the vision I have," Wyatt looked at Harry quickly, and saw that the brunette was listening attentively to his aunt speak. Paige grinned. "I'll demonstrate, as well. Wyatt!" she called, pointing to the floor next to her.

Wyatt had a second to shout, "I am not your guinea pig!" before he was absorbed in white lights and suddenly found himself standing next to Paige in front of the classroom. Laughter and applause from all the students, with the exceptions of Harry, who looked confused, Ron, who had not been looking, and Malfoy, who scoffed, followed the spectacle. Hermione questioned, "Are you wiccan, too, Wyatt?"

Piper answered, "Half-wiccan. My husband, Leo, is a wizard." Wyatt brought his eyebrows together, confused, and then relaxed, remembering that his father was supposedly a wizard. "And his power," said Piper, looking at Wyatt. His eyes had widened. Out of the corner of her mouth, Paige whispered, "You did pick a power to exploit, didn't you?" Wyatt decided upon the first power that came to mind, and bowed his head. He was still.

When nothing appeared to have happened for several moments, the class started to get agitated. After Piper and Paige had amused and excited them, they expected Wyatt to shock them, as well. Hermione asked, "What happened?" and Harry said, "What did he do? Is he alright?" Piper shook her head, shrugging, but an amused voice asked, "Not worried about me, are you?" Harry yelped and whirled around in his seat. He squeaked when he found himself face-to-face with Wyatt, and gaped when he turned the other way and saw that Wyatt still stood in the front of the classroom, his head bowed. Glancing over his shoulder again, he blinked when he saw that Wyatt was standing behind him, staring.

"Wyatt has the power of astral projection," Piper said, mouthing _Why that power?_ to Wyatt when the students began to look back and forth between the prone Wyatt and his projected form. Wyatt shrugged and mouthed back _Couldn't think._ His astral form bowed to the class and faded from view, and Wyatt jerked as if suddenly awakening. "You can sit now, baby," said Piper, and Wyatt said, "Sure, _mam_." The class had grinned at her words, but Piper had winced horribly at being called _mam_.

Before Hermione could ask what powers Chris, Paris, and Prue possessed, Phoebe announced, "For today, we decided that the easiest way to introduce you to our magic was by allowing you to write your own spells and attempt to use them at the end of class."

"Spells aren't written, they're developed," Malfoy interrupted, sneering, his voice full of superiority. "It would be impossible to _develop_ a spell in an hour, even if we had the right equipment."

"All of the equipment that you need," Paige said sharply, "is a piece of paper, sorry, _parchment_, and a quill. We are talking about wiccan spells, which are easier to write." In a flurry of activity, the students pulled out parchment, quills, and bottles of ink, all except for Wyatt, who was already writing in a notebook. "We do not expect any of you to write a successful spell on your first attempt, however. While it might seem easy to write, a wiccan spell is actually rather difficult to work."

"For this class, we're going to pair you up, demonstrate a spell that we wrote, and then you'll have the rest of the period, save for ten minutes at the end when we'll see if your spells work, to write." Phoebe reached into the pocket of her dark purple robes, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, which she unfolded and glanced at. "Let's see... Granger and Brown, Weasley and Parkinson, Malfoy and Finnegan, Crabbe and Zabini, Goyle and Thomas, Halliwell and Potter..." and the list went on.

Hermione stood up from her seat and, before she had walked away, she gave Wyatt a stern look that Wyatt ignored completely. Ron smiled at Hermione as she neared, and Wyatt figured that Harry hadn't told the redhead what Hermione had said to him. It only served to make him more curious. _What _did_ she say to you,_ Wyatt silently asked as Harry dropped into the seat next to him, not looking his way as he did so. Wyatt watched him secretely through his bangs for a moment, and then looked back at his mother. He snorted, and bit his lip when his mother looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

Taped to the chalkboard and obviously copied from the Book of Shadows was a picture of the source, complete with a horn that resembled that of a unicorn's in the center of his forehead and a large, drooping moustache that took up half his face drawn in bright red crayon. Harry turned his head slightly to peer at him in confusion, but looked away when Wyatt glanced up at him.

Without warning, Phoebe said, in a strong, clear voice, "Let the object of objection become but a dream, as I cause the scene to been unseen." The class gasped as a small sparkle ran over the picture, leaving the source restored to his former glory as soon as it had faded. "As you can see," said a smiling Paige, "this spell if one used to rid someone or something of an unwanted object. But, this is not a permanent spell. It is similar to a glamour spell, and will fade, sooner or later, depending on the power behind it."

"Now, before you write," Piper said when the class began to talk amongst themselves, "find something that you wouldn't mind loosing for a few seconds and say the spell. Wyatt, let Harry write and say the spell. We know that you can write and read spells." Wyatt sneered slightly at her, but all in good humour, and turned to smile at Harry, who had written down the spell Phoebe had used on his parchment.

"What do you want removed?" sighed Harry, and Wyatt pushed his robes away and promptly lifted his shirt, pulling down the front of his pants slightly to reveal one of his tatoos. Harry, though slightly embarrassed, managed to choke, "Dr. Feelgood, huh?" Wyatt nodded proudly.

**DR. FEELGOOD** was written across his lower stomach. As Harry pulled the parchment with the spell written on it toward himself, Paige looked in their direction and, abandoning her professor attitude, she whistled. "Dr. Feelgood!" she cried, pumping her fist in the air.

Several _pops_ were heard as heads snapped in the direction of Harry and Wyatt. "What is _Dr. Feelgood_?" asked Malfoy, looking disgusted as he saw the tatoo that Wyatt still had revealed. Wyatt's proud smile disappeared and he groaned. "Has nobody except for Harry heard of Motley Crue? This is an outrage. _I've got one thing you'll understand; he's not what you'd call a glamorous man. Got one thing that's easily understood; he's the one they call Dr. Feelgood._"

Paige smiled and sang, "_Let him soothe your soul, just take his hand. Some people call him an evil man. Let him introduce himself real good. He's the only one they call Feelgood._" Wyatt smiled at her. His classmates shrugged and got back to work.

When Wyatt turned back, Harry was watching him. "Interesting choice of a tatoo," he said when Wyatt looked at him questioningly. "I just say the spell, right?" he asked. Wyatt smiled at him, glad that Harry was talking to him. "I shouldn't be giving you tips, Harry," he said teasingly. "But I'll give you a clue. You have to _want_ it."

"Want what?" asked Harry, looking alarmed. Wyatt rolled his eyes. "For my tatoo to disappear, of course." Harry smiled, looking a little relieved, and embarrassed. Wyatt wondered what Harry had thought he had meant. Harry nodded and picked up the parchment, cleared his throat, glanced at the tatoo again, and said, "Let the object of objection become but a dream, as I cause the scene to be unseen."

The tatoo glittered and disappeared, only to reappar a split-second later. Wyatt grinned reassuringly when Harry, who had looked excited, deflated. "The first spell I ever did was this one, and I was so excited, I made the whole kitchen disappear," he told Harry. "For three hours." Harry shrugged. "At least it disappeared," he said, smiling a little. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then apparently remembered that he wasn't supposed to be talking to Wyatt, and instead said, a little cooly, "What kind of a spell are we going to write?" Wyatt said, "I'm not supposed to help you, remember?" He looked away, "Besides, I've already come up with a spell." He held up his hand, where a black rose had appeared. Harry gaped as Wyatt put the rose in a glass case that he produced a second later, and set it on the table.

"Safe from dust, safely in glass, saved from wilting, spelled to last; take this flower, a rose by name, absorb it in everlasting flame," Wyatt intoned, and the rose was immediately surrounded by a sparkling, emerald fire. It was not destroyed, however. The class _oohed_ and _ahhed_ appropriately, and Wyatt smiled proudly at the production of his hasty spell. "Perfect," he mumbled, running his fingers over the invulnerable glass that he had conjured. His classmates stared for a moment longer, and then returned to their own spells, looking a little disappointed as they read over their scribbles. "How did you...?" Harry asked.

Wyatt shrugged and said quietly, "Are you talking to me again? I thought for a second there that you were going to start ignoring me again." Harry started, and looked away. Wyatt rubbed his forehead and asked, "Harry? What's the matter?" Harry seemed to shake himself, and he looked back up at Wyatt. Wyatt blinked at the fire raging in his eyes, only to realize that it was a reflection of the fire dancing around his rose. Harry stuttered, but the brunette managed to his point across with three whispered words:

"I'm not gay."

Pale eyes widened and Wyatt stared at Harry, shocked and mortified, before anger flared within him and he hissed, "And I suppose you want me to stop talking to you because you think I'm attracted to you?" Harry did not answer or even look up at him, but his face heated up. Wyatt considered telling Harry that he was wrong, that there was no attraction, no feelings, but abruptly stood up and said, "I am. Attracted to you." Emerald eyes widened, this time. "But I guess you have a problem with that. Thanks for trying. I won't bother you anymore."

He left Harry, shocked and stung, at the table, and walked to where his mother and Paige were leaning against the large desk that took up half of the front part of classroom. Harry was definitely red now, and he sunk down in his seat, looking upset and confused. Wyatt pretended not to notice, and sat next to his mother on the desk.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. Wyatt shook his head, scuffing his foot across the floor. One of his mental barriers had shattered, and he could feel that Paige was confused, and his mother was worried. She looked at Harry, who still looked hurt and embarrassed, and then at Wyatt. In a voice that did not give away her thoughts but still purveyed her affection, she said, "You can leave class early, if you would like to. You already know this, and I see that your spell worked perfectly."

Wyatt glanced up, and noticed that he had left the rose on the table. Harry was staring at it, his chin leaned on his right fist and a confused expression still plastered on his face. "See you at lunch," he told his mother, kissing her on the cheek and turning to leave the classroom. As he passed by Harry, he stopped, and Harry held out the rose for him, avoiding his eyes. Wyatt pushed it back towards him, and Harry looked up, startled. "You can keep it." He did not wait for Harry to reply, but left the classroom, and he did not notice the distrustful look that Ron gave him, or the glare that he gave Harry.

He looked around when he heard someone call his name, and saw Phoebe jogging towards him. "Do you like Harry?" she asked, grinning stupidly at him. Wyatt looked away from her and nodded. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Wyatt. "Harry isn't gay. Tell Chris that for me," he added, and orbed away. He could feel a headache forming and he really wanted to curl up in his warm, comfortable bed, at home, and sleep for the entire year. _The year stinks already,_ he thought.

* * *

To my loyal reader(s) and reviewer(s):

_Ladida:_ I'm glad that the update was well worth the wait. I promise that Harry will not be soppy (I hate stories where the _boy who lived_ turns into a sap!), and that the blushing will lessen soon. Harry has just found out about Wyatt's attraction to him, and so things are going to start changing. There are still some obstacles for him to overcome, first. Thank you for your kind review, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Check back soon for the next one!

_Gabif:_ You honestly don't know how much your words mean to me; I'm so happy that you love this story! I promise that I will not wait two months in between updates again, unless something really awful happens (and hopefully nothing will happen!). I'd love to stay in and write this story all day, but, like most people my age, I'm still in school, which, no matter how much I love to write this story, is my number one priority at the moment. And don't be silly - you don't annoy me at all! I really hope that this chapter was up to bar, and that you continue to love Reaching for the Red Moon.

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please Review!** I'm surprised that I've had reviews at all, but, like all authors, I believe that a couple more wouldn't hurt! If you don't like my story, please leave some constructive criticism. Do not tell me that it sucks or complain about the slash, because this will not stop me from writing, nor will it offend me. I've warned at the beginning of every chaptering of the upcoming slash. I hope that everyone that has read this story has enjoyed it and that, even if you don't review (but please do!), you will continue to check for updates and read Reaching for the Red Moon.

Final Note:

What do you think about Wyatt's tatoo? ;-) Anyways, there are others that you'll get to see, up close and personal, coming up in the next few chapters. I hope you enjoyed and, once again, please review!


	9. C8: Abnormal

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. However, nobody really knows what Wyatt saw except for him. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that could not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** **SLASH ALERT! SLASH ALERT! There is some SLASH in this chapter.** I know I promised that Ron and Wyatt would yell and that Malfoy would make a cameo, but I simply could not fit it in. I will make sure that these scenes are in the next chapter, however, _I promise_. Anyway, this chapter is short, like the last one, but I think that it's great, because Harry actually caves! For those of you that immediately think, _They can't be together already! School just started, they just met!_, I completely agree with you. Do not think that everything is happy and shiny, not just yet. I'm not going to make excuses and say that this is the first time I've written a romance story (although this is the first time I've actually written my ideas down!), but I will say that I'll do my best to keep things as real as possible. Remember, this is not a real world, and Harry and Wyatt are as far from normal as possible. Read, enjoy, leave reviews!

**Current Chapter:** Chapter 8 - Abnormal

**Day:** Late Monday/Early Tuesday

* * *

Harry Potter was very unhappy. As he stomped across the dark, slightly damp grounds of the school, hidden underneath his invisibility cloak, he recalled the conversation that he had just had in the Gryffindor common room with Hermione.

"_Harry, we need to talk." It was late, and Harry, who had been sitting in front of the fire with a book about wiccans and their magic for the past several hours, looked up and scowled. "I have nothing to say to you," he said, and turned back to his book. He found that he could no longer fully process the words that were written on the page, entilted _Famous Wiccans of the Twentieth Century_, however. Hermione ignored him and sat on the couch next to him. Harry glanced around the common room and found, to his horror, that only he and Hermione remained. "Well, I have something to say to you," Hermione said, a determined note in her voice._

"_Hermione-"_

"_Don't interrupt me, Harry," Hermione demanded, and Harry dropped his book onto the low table and glared at her. Hermione took a deep breath and said, "No matter what you have to say on the subject, you _are_ attracted to Wyatt, and you and I both know it." Harry snarled, "I am not-" but Hermione half-shouted, "I said, don't interrupt me!" and he sat back, eyes spitting emerald fire. "I understand that you might be scared, Harry, but that is no reason to deny your feelings and the happiness that you need."_

_Hermione smiled slightly as Harry appeared to consider this. "I don't know how much I trust Wyatt, but Dumbledore let him and his family into the school smiling, so there must be a reason as to why he's here. I think that you should stop lying to yourself and accept the fact that, while maybe you aren't exactly gay, you do have feelings for him."_

"_How can I have-"_

"_Harry," Hermione said patiently, and Harry shut his mouth. He felt so extremely tired all of a sudden. There was a lump in his throat. Why did Hermione have to stare at him like that? "There are all kinds of reasons as to why you have feelings for him, Harry. Maybe you are gay, or bisexual, and you are just attracted to him, or maybe it's something more complicated than that. Who knows? Maybe you're supposed to like him. All I know is that you do have feelings for him, and that he likes you, too, for whatever reason. So stop being so thick, open your mind, and accept that! People will accept you as soon as you accept yourself, Harry."_

_She gave him a meaningful look and then left him alone on the couch with his thoughts. His eyes were stinging. He remained seated for several minutes, mulling over what he had been told, and then suddenly stood and, after retrieving his invisibility cloak from his dormitory, he left._

Now, the tears that had been threatening to come were inching down his face, and he did nothing to stop him. Hermoine didn't understand. He didn't deserve to be happy, and he didn't deserve Wyatt, who, from what he had learned in the past few days that he had known him, was a good person, with a good singing voice, a big heart, and beautiful eyes.

_Stop it,_ he told himself angrily, _you barely know him._ He barely knew Wyatt, but he knew how he felt. Since this morning, after what Hermione had said to him, he had been thinking about Wyatt. What did he really know about the blonde? _He can sing. He's really nice. He insulted Snape. He made sure I didn't get hurt in potions. He warned me not to repress my emotions. He makes me laugh. He likes Guns N' Roses and Bon Jovi. The Sorting Hat took longer to sort him than it did me. He doesn't like pumpkin juice. He's strong. Hedwig trusts him. Dumbledore trusts him. He hates it when his hair is messy. He's funny. Sugar makes him hyper. He can see the future. He's half-wiccan and has the power of astral projection. He likes butterbeer. He paid for my candy and my drink. He stands up for himself. He's powerful. He gave me that rose. He's hot. He's..._

_...standing right in front of me. Shit!_

Wyatt Halliwell was indeed standing in front of him, peering at the space where the brunette stood, hidden. Wyatt stretched out his right hand, in which, Harry was impressed to learn, he held the new _Lightening Bolt_ broomstick. Harry was alarmed, however, when Wyatt swiped the head of the broomstick only inches from his face, and he stumbled back, stepping on his cloak as he did so.

As he hit the ground, the cloak flew off his face, taking his glasses with it. Harry looked up quickly to see Wyatt staring down at him, but he could not make out the expression on his face without his glasses. After a few excruciating moments, Wyatt began to laugh, as if he were relieved. Harry blushed. "I thought you were a demon," Wyatt chuckled, stooping down and picking up Harry's glasses. He held them out to the brunette, who took them and shoved them onto his face.

"A what?" questioned Harry, standing up quickly. Wyatt snorted as he immediately fell over again; he was too badly tangled in his cloak. "Are you alright?" the blonde asked when, after trying to stand once more, Harry fell back on the grass, his eyes closed and a defeated expression on his face. The emerald-eyed boy nodded, opening his eyes a crack to peer at Wyatt, who stood over him, smiling.

_Nice smile._ Harry groaned and closed his eyes, pushing the thought away. Once again, Wyatt asked him if he were alright, "I'm tangled up in a cloak, of all things, and my best friend thinks that I'm gay." When silence was the response he received, Harry opened his eyes again to see how the blonde had reacted, and received a huge shock. Wyatt was leaning very close to his face, his eyes wide. "Is that right?" the blonde said noncommitally. Harry didn't answer. Up close, he could see that the pale green eyes that he had thought he knew seemed to glimmer and change, reflecting the colors of the night around him. _Beautiful._

Harry watched as Wyatt jerked back, as if startled. Harry sat up, only to realize that he must have, at one point, moved the wrong way, because he was now trapped completely in the cloak. Wyatt watched him struggle for a moment and then brightly said, "Stay still." Harry immediately and without question was still. Wyatt smiled and said, "Cloak." Harry giggled as a tingle went over him, and then stared, mouth agape, as Wyatt stood, the cloak in his arms.

"How did you do that?" he asked, shocked. Wyatt only smiled again and, after throwing the cloak over his shoulder and dropping the broomstick on the grass, he stuck out his hand to Harry. Harry reached up and took it, allowing the blonde to pull him to his feet as he had last Friday. _At least he didn't attack me this time_, Harry thought. Wyatt's smile seemed to widen and Harry, feeling embarrassed, said curiously, "I thought that was your aunt's power."

Wyatt shrugged and, leaning closer to Harry, he whispered into his ear, "There's more to me than you'll ever know," and he then leaned back, smiling mysteriously. Harry had not registered what he had said, however, and only watched as Wyatt picked up his broomstick again and smiled at him. What he had registered, however, was that Wyatt had nearly licked his ear when he had spoken to him, and that he smelled really, really good. _Like warm vanilla_, he thought, dizzy.

"So," began Wyatt, his smile fading a little, "Hermione thinks that you're gay." Despite the fact that he knew he hadn't relayed that it had been Hermione's thought, Harry nodded. Wyatt looked up at the sky. When he looked back at Harry, there was a weird glow to his eyes. "Are you?"

"I-I-I," Harry stuttered. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "How did you know that you were gay?" Wyatt tilted his head to the left, a thoughtful expression on his face. Suddenly, he grinned, and laughed. "Oh! I had completely forgotten!"

"What?" asked Harry, alarmed. Wyatt stopped laughing and looked at Harry, still smiling. "You don't want to know how I found out, Harry." Harry was nodding, however, and said that he did. Wyatt shook his head, smiling, and said with a shrug, "Okay. Sit down and I'll tell you." Harry promptly dropped down on the grass, and Wyatt, still smiling, sat next to him. He laughed again, shaking his head. "Well?" asked Harry, eager and yet dreading to learn about how Wyatt had known.

"Well, there were a few warning signs, of course. Alarm bells, in my head, you could say," Wyatt said, lying back on the grass. Harry nodded and fell back onto the grass next to him. Wyatt leaned up on one elbow and smiled down at him. Harry smiled at him uncertainly, his face turning slightly red again. "I can show you how I finally came to the conclusion that I was gay."

"How?" asked Harry. He was a little nervous. What if he had had a similar experience and reacted in the same way as Wyatt? Did that mean he was gay, too? He completely missed the fact that Wyatt had said _show you_ and not _tell you_.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, he was completely unprepared when Wyatt abruptly leaned towards him. His eyes widened as Wyatt leaned so close to his face that the blonde had to reach up and push his glasses back into his hair so that he wouldn't be leaning on them. It didn't matter, though. Anything that close to his eyes, Harry could see everything perfectly, and right now, he could see Wyatt.

"How do you feel right now, Harry?" Wyatt asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His warm breath tickled Harry's nose, and Harry felt his flush deepen. _Too close. Way too close_. "Uh..." Harry stuttered, and Wyatt said softly, "The truth, Harry."

"Uncomfortable," said Harry finally. He wasn't being completely honest, though, and Wyatt knew it. "_And?_" the blonde purred, and Harry closed his eyes, gulping. "You're too close," he whispered, not opening his eyes. They shot open, however, when he felt Wyatt lean closer to him, so that their bodies were touching. "And?" the blonde repeated. Harry just continued to stare, and he closed his eyes when Wyatt leaned even closer. The blonde was almost on top of him now. "Are you going to answer?" Wyatt asked quietly. Harry shook his head. He _couldn't_ tell Wyatt how he felt.

He opened his eyes again when he felt Wyatt move away. "Wait!" he cried, already missing the contact. Wyatt, who had already rolled onto his stomach and was preparing to stand, looked down at Harry, and Harry felt so hot that he wondered how long it would be until the pressure caused him to explode. "Where are you going?" he managed to choke.

"Anyone would feel uncomfortable at such close quarters," said Wyatt slowly. "If you can't tell me how you really feel..." He started to stand up and, desperate for him not to go, Harry half-sat, grabbed his arm, and pulled, _hard_. Wyatt stumbled, and fell right on top of him. "Is there something you wanted, Harry?" Harry nodded. "Something you want to say?" Harry nodded again. "What?"

"I think..." In one smooth move that Harry completely missed, Wyatt had one hand on either side of his head, his fingers playing with his unruly hair; Wyatt's knees were firmly planted on the ground near to his thighs, and he was leaning over his face, his golden hair brushing against his forehead, against his scar. The silver in his eyes, Harry noticed, was swimming, or maybe that was just him. He felt a little light-headed. "I know..."

"Yes?" asked Wyatt.

"I want you to..."

"To what?" whispered Wyatt. Harry was silent for a long time, almost too long, because Wyatt had started to move away again when the brunette said, "Kiss me." Wyatt was looking down at him again in a flash, an unsure expression on his face. Now that he had said it, though, Harry knew that he wanted it, _badly_. "Kiss me, _please_." Wyatt just continued to stare at him.

"Wyatt, please," he breathed, and Wyatt nodded.

It was wrong. Harry had known Wyatt for less than a week. He knew very little about the blonde, but it all seemed insignificant as Wyatt leaned his weight on one elbow, and lifted his other hand to brush the hair from his face. As he did so, Harry noticed that Wyatt had skin much paler than his own, but also much fairer. "Good answer," the blonde said, and Harry closed his eyes as Wyatt leaned closer.

When their lips met, Harry was sure that his heart had stopped. All he was aware of was that it was him and Wyatt, and there was nothing else, nothing. _This can't be normal_, he thought, gasping into the kiss when Wyatt flicked his tongue against his bottom lip. Their tongues met, battled for dominance.

Harry was more than happy to give in.

* * *

To my loyal readers and reviewers:

_Ladida:_ Wow! I'm so flattered. I'm glad you liked the last chapter and that you think this story rocks. I think, and I'm sure you'll agree, that, after this, Wyatt would rather kiss Hermione than fight with her, but Wyatt and Ron are going to make a **huge** scene in the next chapter, and Malfoy is going to be in _so_ much trouble when Wyatt finds him after what he does to Harry, but I've said way too much. I hope that you liked this chapter, and thank you again for being so great! _You_ rule!

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please Review!** Reviews make me happy, and when I'm happy, I think, and when I think, I write, and when I write, another chapter of Reaching for the Red Moon usually follows. Reviews include any criticism, and I welcome all criticism as long as it is **constructive criticism**. This means that you, the critic, will tell me _what_ is bad about the story, and make suggestions as to how I can _improve_ it. This does not mean that you can write _this stinks, you suck_ and expect me to understand what you mean. If you do write that, I will ignore you and continue to write in the manner that I have been writing in for the past several months.


	10. C9: Confessions

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** A Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. There are some things that Wyatt left out of his recount, however, and things are being put into motion now that the Halliwells have arrived. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that would not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** If you look above, you'll see that I updated the summary. The old one was starting to annoy me a bit. In this chapter and in the rest of them, you'll find the promised slash. I wrote this while listening to the Rolling Stones, and I think I understand now why I made them Harry's favorite group! They rock, and I order everyone to listen to some of the Stones' music when they get the chance! Anyway, I meant to update yesterday, but I got caught up in many things... like the thirteen CDs I got for Christmas, and the fact that my poor little brother was sick. I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter, which does include the promised fight between Wyatt and Ron and the cruel prank I mentioned. See the retaliation in the next chapter! Enjoy and **review!**

**Current Chapter:** Chapter 9 - Confessions

**Day:** Late Wednesday, September 29

* * *

'"Er. Hullo."

Wyatt had been in a good mood for all of nine hours after he had kissed Harry, and for eight or so of those hours, he had been asleep. September had passed by quickly, too quickly, and it had been almost a month since their kiss. Wyatt had only just managed to corner the Gryffindor on his way to the library where he, thanks to Chris, who had overheard the three talking that afternoon during lunch while Wyatt had been outside practicing his archery, knew the green-eyed Gryffindor was meeting Ron and Hermione.

"Are you avoiding me, Harry?" Wyatt asked, one golden eyebrow arched delicately. He and the brunette stood, or rather, he sulked and Harry cowered, in a secluded corridor several hallways from the library. Harry looked extremely uncomfortable, and he clutched his bookbag to his chest. He would occasionally glance longingly down the length of the hall. There was no escape, however. He was standing in a small alcove that was partially-hidden behind a suit of armor, and Wyatt was blocking the only exit that did not involve Harry throwing himself at the suit of armor, hoping it fell over, and running for it if it did.

"What in the world makes you think that?" asked Harry with a strained, almost desperate smile. Wyatt had the feeling that Harry really, _really_ did not want to talk to him, or even see him for that matter. It wasn't that Harry was scared of or angry with him; he was embarrassed about what they had done, and he did not want to chance being caught. _He feels guilty about wanting me to kiss him_, Wyatt realized.

"Why are you acting like we did something wrong?" Wyatt was more than intune with other people and their emotions and moods, and he had known that Harry was heading for a major breakdown, and that he had sped up the process with his words. His statement had caused something within Harry to break; it was the proverbial "_straw that broke the camel's back_." As he expected, Harry dropped his bookbag and began to scream.

"Because it _was_ wrong!" the Gryffindor yelled, angry tears filling his green eyes. "You could be spying on me for Voldemort. This could be some sick, twisted plan of his!"

"You know that isn't true, Harry..." Wyatt tried.

"I knew you for less than a week!"

"A week is a long time, Harry," Wyatt argued patiently.

"Ron doesn't like you!" There was nothing else to say. Harry was groping for excuses, and not only did Wyatt know it, but Harry knew that he knew it.

"I don't like Ron," Wyatt admitted.

Harry half-shouted, "You're a boy!"

Wyatt winced, "So are you."

"That's the problem!" Harry screeched, and then, breathing harshly, the Gryffindor deflated, his face red. _Ah, the root of the problem_, Wyatt thought to himself. He remembered, back when he had first realized it, having problems with his homosexuality. It had all changed for him, though, and now he desperately wished that he could recall what exactly had changed. "Are we done here?" Harry asked, and Wyatt pulled himself back into the present in time to see Harry pick up his bookbag and prepare to leave.

"No, we most certainly are not _done here_!" Wyatt cried, wincing when he came out sounding like his mother did when he or Chris did something wrong. "I thought you were over this! You certainly seemed over it a few weeks ago on the quidditch pitch! If I recall correctly, _you_ were the one that wanted me to kiss you!" At his words, Harry promptly flushed bright red. Wyatt turned slightly red himself. "Why is this such a problem for you?" he finally asked.

Harry seemed to weigh his thoughts, and, although it was tempting, Wyatt managed to restrain himself from taking a peek at his mind. After several minutes, Harry said, "I get stared at enough. I don't need to give people another reason to gawk at me. I'm not gay." _Oh, you know you are._ Wyatt watched as the brunette pushed past him and began to walk away. When Harry began to think he was safe, Wyatt rushed forward and grabbed the Gryffindor by the shoulders, forcing him to turn around. "Wha- mmrph!"

Harry registered two things. One, Wyatt was kissing him, and although the kiss was not as intense as the one that he had experienced weeks ago, it was still _amazing_, and two, they were standing in a hallway just outside of the Ravenclaw dormitories, where anyone could find them at any given moment. And, as an afterthought, he added _I'm not gay_, to his _Reasons Why Wyatt Can't Kiss Me_ list, wondering why it hadn't been on his mental list before. Not even he believed it anymore, however.

After several moments, Harry remembered that Wyatt was still kissing him, and pulled away. He stumbled back, tripped over the back of his robes, and fell flat on the floor. His bookbag burst open and books spilled out, along with half-chewed quills, an unopened box of ice mice, and several bottles of black ink, which shattered on the floor. Ink splattered over everything, including Harry himself.

Wyatt looked down at him, partly exasperated, partly upset, and partly amused, as Harry scrambled to push everything back into his bookbag as quickly as possible in order to continue his mad dash for freedom. "I don't kiss that badly, do I?" he asked as Harry stood up, his bookbag hapazardly thrown over his shoulder. The Gryffindor took one step, and had immediately slipped in a puddle of ink, falling again.

"Harry." Harry looked up and was mildly surprised to see Wyatt kneeling in front of him, holding out a book to him. He now had ink smeared over his hands and part of his shirt, which was a rather nice t-shirt that said something about Bon Jovi, runaways, and hair metal that could be taken either as an insult or a compliment, and fit the blonde quite snugly. "You're not the only person that's ever been stared at," Wyatt told the brunette as he stood up again, stepped around the puddle, and turned to leave. He glanced over his shoulder, however, when Wyatt spoke. "If you could only see the people in my world where I'm concerned... if you really feel the need to know more stuff about me, I suggest you talk to Leto Novotny. Tell her that I said she can tell you all she knows. But, please, Harry, keep it to yourself."

Harry stared after the blonde Halliwell as he turned around and walked away, confused. Why did Wyatt want him to talk to the third year that had spoken to him on the first night of school? _Only one way to find out_, Harry thought to himself, and, after glancing in the direction of the library one last time, he made up his mind, turned heel, and ran.

When he reached the Gryffindor common room, he sighed in relief at seeing Leto, a small third year with more freckles than his best friend, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace with a small marble notebook. As Harry studied her, she shut the notebook, put it under her, and opened a potions textbook, which she appeared suddenly immersed in, as if she had been reading it all afternoon.

"Leto?" he questioned as he neared her. She looked up, her face flushed. "Leto Novotny, right?" The little girl nodded, and Hrary sat next to her on the couch. When he didn't say anything immediately, she asked him what he wanted from her. "You know Wyatt Halliwell, right?" Leto was shocked at the question, and she hesitated before nodding. "What do you know about him?" Leto bit her lip and looked around the common room before stuttering, "W-well, he's in Gryffindor, l-like you and me, and he-he's in his sixth year, like y-you, a-and-"

"Not that," said Harry, attempting to be polite and only succeeding in sounding impatient and anxious. "Something that I don't know already." Leto began to chew on her bottom lip with more force and glanced around the common room once again, as if attempting to find a means of safe escape to her dormitory, where Harry knew he could not follow. Harry hesitated himself and, crossing his fingers, he said, "He told me to tell you that you can tell me all you know."

The third year looked at him with a new face and began to stare at him as if concentrating on something only she was able to see. Harry felt slightly uncomfortable under the weighty gaze and was relieved when, minutes later, Leto calmed and smiled at him. She said, "Okay. I believe you. Wyatt works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?" The look that Harry gave her was entirely uncomprehending, and she blushed and continued, "He's wiccan."

Harry nearly laughed, he was so relieved. "Oh. I already know that." Leto smiled, apparently pleased that she knew something he did not, and asked, "What power does he have that you know of?" Harry blinked and said slowly, "Er. Astral projection." Her smile grew. "Well, Harry, he has more powers! A lot more! One or more for every letter of the alphabet, my mom used to say! I can't believe he chose _astral projection_ as his one known power. What a complete waste!"

"What?" Harry asked. "How can he have more than one power? Hermione said..."

"Forget what Hermione said," said Leto. "Wyatt Halliwell is not a normal wiccan. To be fair, his mother, aunts, brother, and cousins aren't normal, either. The Halliwell sisters are the Charmed Ones." Harry shrugged when she looked at him as if to say _Does that mean anything to you?_ Leto sighed. "I won't go into all the details, because that could take _forever_," she said, rolling her eyes. "The Charmed Ones are three special witches that fight the forces of evil - darklighters, sources, demons, etc." Harry understood, though not without confusion. He could remember, now, that when he had ran into Wyatt a few weeks ago, Wyatt had said, "_I thought you were a demon._"

Leto nodded as if she could hear his thoughts. "Demons have all kinds of weird powers. They can make themselves invisibile, throw fireballs, and the like. The Charmed Ones and their kids fight demons. It's what they do. Every wiccan knows that." Harry only nodded, prompting her to continue. "You know, Wyatt was the first Halliwell in that specific line to be born in over three hundred years? It must have been such a surprise for his family when he wasn't a she." Harry did not respond, and she said, "We've all heard stories about his birth. Magic was down for a day."

"What?"

"There was no magic for the entire day before Wyatt was born," elaborated Leto. "It all has to do with a prophecy. I know it says something about planets and dancing light and about how magic _shall rest for a holy day to welcome a twice-blessed child._ Wyatt." Harry nodded, speechless. _Wyatt has a prophecy?_ "I heard there are more were that one came from," whispered Leto. "But anyway, my dad told me that Wyatt was so powerful that magic couldn't take the sudden increase in output, or something along those lines, and had to shut down in order to protect itself. It was reborn when he was."

"But-" Harry couldn't get much further. How could Wyatt _possibly_ be so powerful that magic had literally feared its survival and shut down for his coming? Leto said, "Let me finish. I know that Wyatt had a lot of power even before he was born, but I don't know what he did, other than save his mum from certain injury and death more than once with his forcefield. _Let me finish_!" Harry had opened his mouth, but, shocked at her outburst, he closed it again. "When he was a baby, he was able to conjure a dragon, right out of the telly! It caused a huge scare, of course, but he banished it, no problem!" She punched her fist through the air, narrowly missed his face, and blushed. "Sorry." Harry shook his head, motioning for her to continue. He really didn't know what to think. _Maybe she's lying_.

"I am not lying!" Leto said sharply, and Harry gaped at her. She _harumphed_ and said, "I'm part-wiccan. My power is limited telepathy. I can only read surface thoughts, the things that you think in the same moment as I read you. Wyatt has telepathy, too, but I heard that he can hear thoughts from months ago if he focuses!" She seemed excited, and Harry did not interrupt. "He has been fighting demons since he was a little kid, you know? There's no way that he's in league with Voldemort, so if you like him that much, don't be so worried!" Harry gaped, too shocked to be embarrassed. Leto rolled her eyes. "I won't tell anyone, I promise, but I agree with Hermione. You should stop acting like an idiot and accept your feelings. Wyatt is as good, if not more then, than you or me. You would be so lucky!" she appeared outrageously jealous for a moment, but then she managed to get a hold on herself.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Harry asked. Leto opened her mouth, and then snapped her head upwards as if she had heard something. She looked back at him after a moment. "Nothing right now," she said, a little too quickly to be true, as she glanced at the ceiling once again. "Wyatt will tell you everything else, but not yet. Again, stop being stupid and kiss him already! He really likes you!" she said, and, giggling, she gathered her books and ran for her dormitory.

Harry could only stare, wide-eyed, after her, but he had been sitting, prone, for less than thirty seconds when she appeared at the bottom step of the stairs, a worried, half-amused look on her face. "Wyatt and Ron are arguing near the library. You might want to go stop them before they hurt eachother." Harry did not even wait to question how she could have known that, but jumped up and bolted from the tower.

While stumbling through the final hallways, he could hear raised voices. He could tell right away that they did, indeed, belong to Ron and Wyatt, and he sped up, sliding around a corner and nearly colliding with a huge crowd of people. He pushed through the crowd and once he managed to get through the throng of people he almost fell into Hermione, who was trying to make the two boys stop. Ron yelled, "Just leave us alone!" and Hermione shouted, "Ron!" as the redhead swung his fist at Wyatt.

"_Stop it_!" Harry screeched. Ron paid him no heed, but Wyatt glanced around at him, apparently shocked that he had was there, and everyone either winced or cheered as the swinging fist connected with his face. Wyatt stumbled sideways, and felt blood dribble into his mouth. He turned around, and heard the crowd gasp as the cut on his face closed and the bruise disappeared. Harry stared, but was the first one to spring into action. _Must be one of those _other_ powers,_ he thought. He jumped forward, his wand on Wyatt, and, after noticing the strangely trusting look that Wyatt gave him as he took a step away from the redhead, he rounded on Ron. "You are a prefect! You know better than to fight!" he shouted at Ron, who appeared shocked that he was the one being yelled at.

"But, Harry, he-"

"I don't want to hear it, Ron," he said, and he pocketed his wand. At Wyatt, Harry hissed, "You and I have to talk, _now_." Wyatt just nodded, alarmed at his sudden control of the situation. "Hermione," Harry said simply, and the young woman nodded and glared at their friend, who appeared horribly confused, out of the loop as he was. "Come on," Harry mumbled to the blonde, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the scene. He had managed to pull Wyatt down several halls before the blonde pulled away, clutching at his arm. When Harry saw the same blue lights that had absorbed and healed the result of Ron's attack glow under his hand, and blushed. "Sorry." Wyatt shook his head.

"I guess you talked to Leto," he said. Harry nodded and asked, "What was that about?" Wyatt began, "I wanted to tell you, but Dumbledore wanted us to keep it a secret so that we wouldn't alarm or frighten the students, and-" Harry smiled, to his confusion. "Not that." The brunette frowned again and crossed his arms over his chest. "What happened with Ron?"

The face that Wyatt made at him made him want to, strangely enough, _giggle_, but he squashed the urge ruthlessly and only flushed slightly, still glaring. "Oh, _that_," said Wyatt, schooling his features into a look that was less _what the fuck?_ than his previous one. He was slightly red, too. "I walked into him outside of the library as Madam Pince was closing it for dinner, and he just started yelling at me about how I was annoying him, and Hermione, and _you_, and I told him to stuff it, that what you and I did or didn't do was none of his business, and that's when you appeared." Harry blushed at the implication. At the same time, his stomach growled. "Hungry?" asked Wyatt, not the least bit perturbed.

Harry nodded. "This is going to be a problem, isn't it?" Harry asked as they began walking towards the Great Hall. Wyatt looked at him, confused. "What is?" Harry responded by walking even more quickly, and saying over his shoulder, "How Ron feels about you and how I feel about you."

"What did Leto say to you?" Wyatt asked. The blonde had stopped in the middle of the hallway. Harry stopped, feet away from him. "The same thing that Hermione said. And some other stuff." He turned around to face the blonde and said, "If you really want to know what she said, you can just read my thoughts, right? You've done it before, haven't you?" Wyatt shook his head and they began to walk again. "Never intentionally. I would never do that to anyone unless I absolutely had no other choice." Harry nodded, feeling uncomfortable again.

"Is this going to be a problem for you?" Wyatt asked, and Harry was the confused one this time. Instead of explaining, Wyatt simply grabbed his hand in his own, twining their fingers together. He stopped himself from smiling as Harry blushed and looked down at their hands, absently squeezing his. Finally, Harry took a deep breath and said, "I don't know. I hope not. But I want to keep it a secret for now."

"Keep what a secret?" teased Wyatt, and Harry yelped, "_Wyatt_!" as the blonde leaned close to him. Wyatt paused and then he, so quickly that Harry would have missed it had it not been for the sudden giddiness the came over him, pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as quickly, the blonde had let go of his hand and was walking away. Harry stared after him for a moment and then cried, "Wait!" Wyatt stopped immediately, and they walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall together.

Dinner was quiet and uneventful, but it was after dinner that _it_ happened. A large group of sixth, fifth, and fourth year Gryffindors were heading back to the tower after eating. Harry and Hermione stood between Wyatt and Ron, who glared at eachother over their heads, as they were both taller than the other two. While Hermione was short enough, Harry was almost as tall as Wyatt, which was why the blonde was walking haphazardly on his toes. As they turned the corner, Harry stopped dead in his tracks, and Wyatt nearly walked into him. "What is it?" he asked, but Harry only stared ahead in horror.

There, in front of the portrait of the fat lady, who was shrieking, "_Awful Slytherin pranksters! Mongrels! Brats! No respect, none!_" was perhaps the most awful thing that Harry had been forced to witness since the actual death of his godfather at the end of his fifth year. A large stuffed black dog sat in the middle of the hallway. What appeared to be a large, shimmery grey sheet was suspended in the air behind it, and, in front of it, a cloak-wearing, wand-baring suit of armor stood.

As they watched, a green light burst out of the wand and hit the dog, and it fell backwards through the sheet, which Wyatt realized was only an illusion. A camera flashed somewhere. He did not understand what was so awful about it, except for the implied cruelty to animals. He looked around when he heard a sob and realized that maybe it was worse than it appeared.

Hermione had her arms around Harry, who was shaking badly and had his head in the crook of her neck. Ron whipped out his wand, but before he could do anything, Wyatt had lifted his hands and waved them. There was a loud _boom_ as everything involved in the cruel prank exploded, leaving nothing behind. Ron did not even blink. As one, he and Wyatt said, "They're dead." Nobody dared disagree.

* * *

To the loyal readers and reviewers:

_Charmedsisters:_ Thanks! I'll update as soon and as often as I can, and I hope you enjoy the rest as much as you enjoyed the first few chapters!

_Ladida:_ Come back as many times as you like! You're welcome! I'm glad you loved the last chapter and I'm relieved that you don't think it happened too fast between them. I'm also happy that it came out just the way you imagined it. Here's the chapter you threatened me over, hope you liked it, and, please, don't hurt me. Thank you again, and don't worry - I don't know if your French is right or not. I take Italian!

_Gabif:_ Wow, you flatter me. As you can see, Harry found out a lot of stuff about Wyatt, but there is still more for him to learn. The story isn't over yet! Merry Christmas!

_Essenity:_ I'm beyond grateful that you took the time to reconnect to the internet in order to review my story! I'm sorry that you're hooked on Charmed/Harry Potter crossovers now... but I am happy! Some of them are really great! I read them all the time. I'm also happy that the end of the last chapter made you grin. It makes me smile, too. Hope you liked this chapter, check back for new ones soon!

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please Review!** Reviews make me happy, and when I'm happy, I think, and when I think, I write, and when I write, another chapter of Reaching for the Red Moon usually follows. Reviews include any criticism, and I welcome all criticism as long as it is **constructive criticism**. This means that you, the critic, will tell me _what_ is bad about the story, and make suggestions as to how I can _improve_ it. This does not mean that you can write _this stinks, you suck_ and expect me to understand what you mean. If you do write that, I will happily ignore you and continue to write in the manner that I have been writing in for the past several months.


	11. C10: Lions, Snakes, and Communal Showers

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** R

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** A Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. There are some things that Wyatt left out of his recount, however, and things are being put into motion now that the Halliwells have arrived. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that would not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** Okies...notes. First, I've officially changed the rating to "R" because I have hope that the story will become more intense in the next couple of chapters, beginning with this one. I'm not completely sure that I can write a real, detailed sex scene, however, so if you're looking forward to one, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it either won't come for a while or won't come at all, period. Then again, I've surprised myself before, so who knows? Don't have high expectations of me, please! Second, I've made this chapter longer than the last few, and I hope that I can continue to write long chapters, even if they're not twenty page wonders! I hope that everyone has enjoyed Reaching for the Red Moon so far and that this chapter is bearable! Enjoy and please **review!**

**Current Chapter:** Chapter 10 - Lions, Snakes, and Communal Showers

**Begins on:** Monday, October 4th

* * *

"Just ignore them, Harry," Wyatt heard Ron whisper in a low, strained voice to Harry, who stood between the the two of them as they passed by a group of laughing Slytherins on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast on Monday. It had been almost a week since the prank had been played, and, although Slytherins had been popping up with strange, magical ailments and bruises in the infirmary over the past few days, Wyatt had not yet enacted his revenge upon the surly group, which had looked very pleased with themselves despite the attacks on their housemates. Malfoy had remained untouched, but only because Wyatt and Ron had claimed him as their victim, and although Ron had no idea that he was sharing his prey, Wyatt did, and he had no intention of letting Ron be the first to attack the smug Slytherin Prince. _You're a dead man, Malfoy_, Wyatt thought to himself, clenching his teeth as the aforementioned Slytherin smirked at Harry as they passed and whispered in a low, whiny voice, "No, no, not Sirius! Not Sirius! Please, no!"

Unseen, he squeezed Harry's hand reassuringly, using the long sleeves of their school robes as cover. Harry had his head lowered, but he gave Wyatt a thankful look as they entered the hall, the Slytherins walking in just behind them. Some of them were moaning, while others were laughing. "Don't lower yourself to their level, Ronald!" Hermione suddenly barked, and both Harry and Wyatt glanced around to see her looking at Ron, who had clenched his fists and teeth and was glaring with dangerously dark blue eyes at the group. "Let's just sit, eat, and head to potions. Professor Snape won't let them act this way in class."

Ron guffawed, but sat down with the other three. "Snape won't do anything about it," Wyatt elaborated. "As long as he's in charge of the Slytherins, they'll get away with anything in his classes." Ron nodded in agreement with the blonde and turned to his breakfast, viciously stabbing his sausages with his fork before eating them. Although they had not reconciled, Wyatt and Ron had reached a truce of sorts. The unspoken agreement was thus: to keep the Slytherins away from Harry.

Harry had told Wyatt about his godfather just after the prank, in their dormitory with Ron and Hermione present. Wyatt remembered restraining himself from hugging the distraught brunette. Although he was sure that Hermione somehow knew about their relationship, Harry was still entirely positive that only he and Wyatt were in the know about it, and Wyatt did not want to upset him.

Harry pushed his eggs around on his plate. He hadn't eaten much since the Incident, as it was called. It had taken only a day for the entire school to be aware of what had happened late Wednesday. Although the majority of the students had no idea why the sight of a giant stuffed dog falling through a sheet had caused Harry such pain, everyone knew that Harry had been upset, and that the select few that knew what it had been about were extremely angry and were not talking. These few included Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Ron, Hermione, Luna Lovegood, a few of the professors, Wyatt, and Harry himself.

"He's dead," Ron said suddenly, watching Malfoy, who had immediately thrown himself into the table and shrieked, "Come back!" when Harry had glanced around at him quickly. "You need to have sympathy for the devil, Ron. He can't help it. He's in need of some restraint," said Harry flatly. Wyatt snorted, and Harry looked at him with a small smile, grateful that somebody had gotten his joke. "What are you talking about?" Ron, apparently, had no idea what Harry had meant, however, and was now staring at the two as if there was some huge conspiracy going on.

"It's a song," said Wyatt, and, at the insistence of Harry and Hermione, he sang, "_Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners, Saints. As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer, 'cause I'm in need of some restraint. So if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse, or I'll lay your soul to waste._"

"Sounds like Malfoy all right," commented Ron finally, and Harry, Wyatt, and Hermione laughed, as did Chris, who had just sat down in the empty seat on Wyatt's right side. "Have you sang any of those _other_ songs you like to sing for them, yet?" Chris asked once they had all settled down, Harry in a considerably lighter mood, and Wyatt happy because Harry was smiling, however smally. He looked at his brother with practiced patience and said, "What songs?"

"You know," said Chris, elbowing him playfully in the side, "those _other_ songs." Wyatt continued to stare blankly at him, and Chris made sure that he had the attention of all those within ten feet before he half-shouted, "The ones you sing in the shower, of course!" Wyatt's jaw dropped in outrage and disbelief, and Harry and the others began to chuckle. "All those songs about love from Bon-" He was unable to get anymore words out, however, because he had just been hit in the face by a rather large amount of oatmeal. Wyatt wagged the spoon he was holding threateningly and said, "One more word out of you, and oatmeal on your face will be the least of your problems."

"He's really sensitive about liking Bon Jovi, isn't he?" Harry, who had leaned forward in his chair so that he could see Chris, who was mopping up his face with a napkin, more clearly, asked. Wyatt was once more outraged, but he could not and would not hit Harry in the face with oatmeal. Chris gave Harry a look of kinship, and said, "Yup. He hides all his naked Jon Bon Jovi pictures under his bed."

"_I do not have naked pictures of Jon Bon Jovi_!" yelled Wyatt, so loudly that students from other tables fell silent and stared at him in disbelief. Wyatt, breathing harshly, blushed as he realized that nearly everyone was looking at him, and his blush became more pronounced as one lone Ravenclaw began to laugh, soon followed by more Ravenclaws, and then Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and even a few Slytherins. Only some actually knew who Jon Bon Jovi was, while others laughed because they knew that _Jon_ was a male name, and still others were just amused by his outburst. A smiling Chris made the final stab of, "Not since Phoebe threw them away, at any rate."

Wyatt really laid the icing on the cake, however, when he snapped around and cried, "So **_that's_** what happened to them!" Harry finally lost his battle to keep silent and began to laugh. Wyatt blushed pink once again when he realized what he had said, and, surrendering to the hilarity of the situation, he mumbled, "At least I still have the ones of Richie Sambora, Slash, and Rob Lowe."

"You're creepy, you know that?" Harry asked, but his smile unseated anything that Wyatt could have taken wrongly about the statement. Wyatt shrugged, but Chris announced, "If you get involved with Wyatt on any level, you begin to see that he is rather creepy in his own way after a while."

And then he promptly shouted, "Wyatt!" as an entire bowl of oatmeal was turned over his head by the said, or rather, shouted blonde. Wyatt rubbed his hands together, his smile pure mischief. Harry smiled, unable to stop himself, as Wyatt said, "I warned you not to say another word. And tell people about my secret stash of naked celebrity photos, will you? That's a serious no-no, little brother." And he topped the oatmeal with a handful of cherries and some chocolate syrup.

Chris, the very image of rage (despite the fact that he was not really angry with his brother, who was smiling at the hysterically-laughing Harry in an almost tender way), picked up a handful of sausages and threw them at Wyatt, who had seen them coming and ducked, pulling Harry down with him. The sausages hit Seamus, and he turned slowly to Chris, who was unable to stop his knee-jerk reaction - laughter. Seamus growled and, picking up an entire plate of eggs, he tossed them at nobody in particular and shouted, "_Food fight!_"

All of the students were in such chaos for the next five minutes that it took several explosions and bursts of light from the Professors' wands to get everyone back under control. Wyatt had pulled Harry under the table as soon as Seamus had declared it a food fight and planned on hiding there until it was over, that is, until Ron ducked under the table, smiling, and threw pumpkin juice at his face. "Yurgh!" the blonde yelled, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes and face. When Ron had turned away to pelt Malfoy with toast, he said to Harry, "That's it, we're outta here." Harry only had one moment to yell, "What?" before Wyatt had pulled him into a hug and they were absorbed by light.

When Harry felt his feet slam into the ground, he pulled away from Wyatt and doubled over, clutching at his stomach. "Urgh," he groaned, dizzy, disoriented, and queasy. Wyatt pulled him into an upright position. There was a worried look on his face as he checked over Harry, who was pale and slightly green in the face. He remembered hearing something about orbing being highly disorienting the first time. But all it took for Harry to pull himself together was one unfocused look around himself.

"What happened?" the brunette shrieked, considerably shocked to find that they were standing just outside of the potions' classroom. Wyatt smiled at him and said, "It's just one of those things that I can do. It's called orbing." Harry brushed himself off and asked, "How?" Wyatt appraised Harry, making him feel slightly uncomfortable, and then smiled, "You know how everyone believes my dad is a wizard?" Harry nodded. "Well, he's not." Harry gaped, "He's wiccan, too?" Wyatt shook his head. "He's something else - a whitelighter. They're a kind of guardian for witches coming into their powers. Whitelighters can orb, heal, shape-shift..."

"They're self-healing?" Harry asked. He had been wondering about the inexplicable way that Wyatt had healed himself last Wednesday, but had not asked, figuring that it was one of the things that Leto had been referring to when she had said "_Wyatt will tell you everything else, but not yet._" Wyatt uneasily said, "Kind-of. Whitelighters can heal their own simple wounds, but I'm more complicated than that." Harry nodded and asked, "But you're self-healing, right?" Wyatt nodded. Harry smiled, stopping himself from asking any of the other questions he had, noticing that Wyatt was becoming uncomfortable with the conversation. He was unable to refrain from saying, when he remembered another part of his conversation with Leto, "Leto told me you have a forcefield."

"Did she, now?" asked Wyatt noncommitally. Harry nodded, turning slightly pink. He relaxed when Wyatt smiled and asked, "Do you want to see it?" Harry looked at him with raised eyebrows for only a moment before nodding. Wyatt grabbed his wrist lightly and pulled him closer, so that he was standing less than two inches from the blonde, their noses nearly touching. Harry blushed at the close contact. They had done little more than hold hands since Wyatt had kissed him before dinner five days ago.

He gasped when he found that Wyatt and himself were suddenly standing in a large dome of some kind. _Wyatt's forcefield_, he realized. He could see the hallway just beyond the shield, but it was bathed in blue and swam weirdly; the shield was obviously translucent. Wyatt smiled at the look of awe on his face, and said, "Nothing outside of it can get into this forcefield unless I want it to, but you can simply walk out if you want." Harry nodded, and Wyatt continued, "I've also been able to darken it since I was about six. Watch."

Harry moved a little away from the blonde as the light blue around him grew so dark that he could no longer see anything on the outside of it, let alone the young man standing less than half a foot away from him on inside. "Er... Wyatt? Wyatt!" he half-screeched as slender arms encircled his waist, pulling him flush against a warm, solid body. He was immediately grateful that it was dark inside the forcefield. "It's good for privacy in open spaces," Wyatt whispered, his breath sweeping across Harry's lips.

"That's... heh... that's good." He nearly giggled when he felt Wyatt nuzzle into the crook his neck, but gasped when he felt a pair of hot, wet lips press a kiss to the base of his throat. "Oh! Wyatt, I, oh!" His eyes fluttered and closed, and he tilted his head back, giving Wyatt more leverage as the blonde licked, nipped, and kissed his way up Harry's throat. "Ouch!" Harry gasped, pulling away slightly from the other boy. _Did he just bite me?_ "Sorry," Wyatt whispered, pulling him back into place and licking at the spot that he had just bitten. Harry sighed softly.

After Wyatt gently nipped at that same spot with his teeth, Harry pulled away again. His eyes had almost completely adjusted to the lack of light, and he could see the disappointed look on Wyatt's face, which lasted only until he had leaned in and kissed Wyatt, hard, on the mouth.

Before they could get properly into their much-needed kiss, Wyatt heard footsteps and loud, angry voices approaching. He pulled away from Harry, who, dazed, simply asked, "Huh?" Wyatt smiled at Harry and the forcefield disappeared in a flash, leaving them visible in the hallway, their arms halfway around eachother. Harry pulled away from him again, brushing his hands down his robes in order to straighten them out. A light pink flush graced his face and a small smile tugged at his lips.

The smile had disappeared by the time a huge crowd of people stumbled into the hallway. Most of them where walking slowly and had their backs turned on the direction they were walking in. Harry grabbed Wyatt by the sleeve and pulled him into the crowd. "What's going on in here?" he asked one of the Gryffindor girls, who was fighting to get to the front of the line. She looked at him weirdly and said, "Ron and Malfoy are fighting. Is that a hickey, Harry?" Harry hadn't even heard her second remark, because the brunette had immediately rammed his way through the thick throng of people following her first. Wyatt, just as oblivious, took the path that Harry had freed; it immediately filled with people, and the group finally stopped walking and tripping their way down the hall in order to follow Ron and Malfoy, who stood in the center of the crowd, which Wyatt belatedly realized was the entirety of the advanced sixth year potions' class.

By the time they reached the spot where Malfoy and Ron were supposedly fighting, they found Dean and Seamus were being restrained by Crabbe and Goyle, Hermione held from intervening by Millicent Bullstrode, and Ron glaring down the length of a wand that was pressed into his nose. His hands were held behind his back by Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy was the one who held the wand. Harry tried to get to him, but others had moved into the spaces in front of him, and he was having trouble getting through this time. "Do something," he half-pleaded, half-ordered Wyatt, who asked, "What do you suppose I should do? I'm supposed to have the power of astral projection, remember? I can't do much with it."

"I don't know!" Harry said, watching, distressed, as Ron was cursed, huge boils springing up on his face. The Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws laughed, while the Gryffindors roared and tried to move forward, held back by the Slytherins, who had more students in this particular class than they. "You're the demon-slayer! Please!" he added, as Ron was hexed and his skin turned purple. Wyatt sighed. Although Harry was not aware of it, Wyatt could not deny him when he said please.

Using his telekinesis to a limited degree, he pushed through the crowd. Once he had made it to the front, he rammed his foot into Crabbe's knee, punching him in the face as he stumbled and cried out in pain. He whirled around and kicked Goyle in the stomach, before sweeping his legs out from under him. Unharmed, Seamus and Dean could only stare in shock as Wyatt freed Hermione from Millicent by pushing the larger girl away with a sweep of his arm.

Wyatt then turned his attention to the two Slytherins that were restraining Ron. Pushing Pansy out of the way with very little force, he slammed his fist into Blaise's jaw, knocking him into the arms of Seamus and Dean, who did nothing to help the tall Slytherin, and only cackled as he hit the floor; Zabini grunted in pain. Meanwhile, Wyatt pushed Ron out of harm's way, and kicked the wand from the loose grasp of one very surprised Draco Malfoy. "My, my, my, we are in trouble, aren't we?" he taunted the pale Slytherin, before hitting him solidly across the face.

Malfoy stumbled into a wall and found himself stuck to it due to Wyatt's foot, which was pressed against his throat. He began to choke and struggle. "One more move, one more _twitch_," hissed Wyatt, "and I will break your neck." Malfoy immediately stopped moving, his eyes wide and fearful, his face frozen in shock. _Now,_ Wyatt thought, projecting his voice into the Slytherin's head, _we're going to have a little chat, you and me._ Malfoy's eyes widened in horror.

_If you ever, ever do anything to hurt Harry again_, Wyatt thought to him, putting as much anger and threat into his mental voice as he could, _you will regret ever thinking that your father can save you from everything and everyone, you hear me?_ Malfoy attempted a nod, alarmed, as his face began to turn blue from the lack of oxygen. _Do you hear me talking in your head, Malfoy? My voice will be the only thing you'll ever hear in your mind again if you even come close to Harry. I'll drive you insane and then mend your mind and do it all over again. Stay away from him, and I won't hurt you. Do we have an understanding? _Malfoy once more shook his head in understanding, and Wyatt let him go.

The Slytherin slid down the wall, his hands clutching his throat, which was bruised horribly, taking deep, gulping, but broken breaths. Wyatt stepped back, letting the other Slytherins rush to their fallen leader. He turned his back on them and looked to see Harry staring at him with awe and confusion. The other Gryffindors looked even more awed and disbelieving than he. Ron appeared as if he wasn't sure whether he should be thankful for the intervention or angry with him for it. Boils covered his purple skin.

"Mr. Halliwell!" screeched a voice, and Wyatt glanced around to see Snape storming down the corridor, a smirking Pansy Parkinson behind him. _There is no way that I'm getting in trouble for that_, Wyatt thought, quickly thinking up a way to get himself out of trouble. Snape took one look at Malfoy and rounded on Wyatt, shouting, "I'll have you expelled!"

"Expelled for what, exactly?" Wyatt questioned, the picture of bewildered innocence. Snape stopped, speechless at his audacity. Finally, the professor turned purple and pointed wildly at Malfoy, who was standing up shakingly. "For harming another student in a life-threatening fashion!" Wyatt looked at Malfoy with a crooked smile and said, "I haven't touched him."

The crowd gasped, but Wyatt was still staring at Malfoy, his pale green eyes on the blue-grey pair. _I'm going to heal your throat and you're going to tell Snape that nothing happened, understood?_ Malfoy nodded slightly, still frightened. "H-he didn't do anything to me, Sir." Everyone turned to face Malfoy in shock, but Harry appeared to realize what Wyatt was doing, and while he certainly didn't support lying, he was more angry about what had been done to his best friend to worry. He whispered to the surrounding Gryffindors, "Go along with whatever Wyatt says. Everything's going to be fine," he added when they stared at him, shocked. Eventually, Hermione nodded, and the others followed. Wyatt looked at Harry and mouthed _they won't remember a thing in a second, so don't worry._

Meanwhile, Malfoy was explaining, "I cursed the Weasel, and Halliwell-" he suddenly stopped, a fearful expression coming over his face. _Keep it to yourself, Malfoy, _Wyatt ordered. Harry looked around and saw that everybody, except for Wyatt, Malfoy, and himself, had a similar blank look; Ron's skin turned back to it's normal, tanned color and the boils disappeared. The brunette turned around when Malfoy shook his head and said, "What's going on?" Snape looked around the gathered students, and then at his watch. He barked, "Into the classroom, now," as he saw the time.

The students flowed into the classroom rather quickly, still looking confused and out of place. Dean asked Seamus, "How'd we get down here?" and Seamus shook his head, shrugging in confusion. Malfoy gave Wyatt one last frightened look and ran into the dungeon room. Harry hung back and grabbed Wyatt's arm as the blonde began to enter the classroom. "What did you do?" he asked, searching Wyatt's face for any sign of confusion. To his relief, Wyatt only smiled.

"I told you, nobody would remember anything, nobody except for you, Malfoy, and me."

"Why does Malfoy remember?" Harry asked, but Wyatt only smirked at him in a mysterious fashion and walked into the classroom. Harry followed him, still bewildered. He sat in his usual seat and watched as Snape put up the instructions for a complicated dreamless sleep potion on the board. He looked around, however, when Seamus suddenly bellowed, "Hey, Harry! Is that a hickey on your neck?"

Everybody immediately turned to the Gryffindor, whose eyes had widened. His hand flew to his neck, to where he knew Wyatt had bitten him less than half an hour before. He glanced at Wyatt quickly in alarm to see how the other boy was faring, but the golden-haired Halliwell was smirking amusedly, a smug, pleased expression on his face.

His mouth dropped open in horror as he heard his classmates begin to snicker.

"I-I-I," he stuttered, but Snape interrupted with a loud snarl of, "Ten points from Gryffindor! Potter's love life has nothing to do with potions!" Harry blushed brightly and buried his head in his arms, moaning despairingly. Hermione patted his arm reassuringly, but gave Wyatt a look that clearly stated _watch it, because I will hex you, no questions asked_. Ron only appeared confused, and said in a hurt voice, "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend, Harry."

"You can gossip," Snape was suddenly at their table, hissing in a ringing voice, "about Potter's virginal acts after class, if you must." Harry groaned again, but Snape paid him no attention as he turned back to his lecture. Wyatt glared at the potions master as he seemed to float away, his cloak billowing out behind him as he did so, thinking, _that'll all change soon, if I have any say in the matter._

Even he was surprised by the thought.

* * *

"Do you like that, Harry?" the low husky voice, accompained with the motions the owner of the voice was making with his hips, caused Harry to moan. _Gods, yes_, Harry thought, unable to speak actual words, but knowing that the other could hear him this way.

Harry groaned in disappointment when Wyatt moved away from him, but his disappointment was short-lived as he felt lips connect with his throat, lips that were traveling down over his chest, swiftly further and further south, until they reached their destination. Harry's eyes shot open and then fell closed as Wyatt teased him with his tongue, and he moaned, "Don't tease me, _please_." There was a pause in the movements, and then Harry let out a hoarse shout as a hot, wet mouth encircled him.

"Wyatt!" Harry yelled as he shot up in bed, heart throbbing at a mile a moment. He was breathing harshly, and he felt sticky, hot, and aroused. As he realized that Wyatt was indeed _not_ with him, he flushed and was grateful that he had begun to use silencing charms around his bed in order to keep his dormmates from hearing him talk in his sleep earlier that year.

He fell back against his pillows with a groan and waited for his pulse to slow and his breathing to return to normal. He shivered, but could not rid himself of the almost painful feeling of _need_ that the short dream had left him with. _A shower sounds rather nice_, he thought to himself, and immediately acted upon the thought. Anything to get his mind off the dream.

He bypassed the Gryffindor boys' bathroom and headed straight for the prefects' bathroom after throwing on his robe, a towel and a bundle of clean pajamas under his arm. Ron had given him the password on the first day of the year, despite Hermione's disapproval, and had winked and told him to use it _whenever he felt the need_. Harry blushed, now; he had not immediately realized what Ron had meant, but he certainly knew what the redhead had implied, now.

Rolling his eyes at the irony, he whispered the password, "_Ruby Tuesday_," as he reached the entrance to the bathroom. The wall slid aside with a loud, long groan, and Harry quickly darted into the bathroom in order to avoid anyone that might have heard the noise. He turned to lock the door but paused when he heard what sounded to be a shower going in the distance.

Curious, he turned around and started tip-toeing towards the back stalls, half-shouting, "Hello? Is anyone there?" When he did not recieve an answer, he straightened himself up and started to walk the rest of the distance to the shower, figuring that someone must have left the water on after finishing in the bathroom. He stopped again when he heard a voice, only feet away from.

"I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction. 'Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try. I can't get no, I can't get no." Harry froze. _Oh, shit_, he thought, immediately placing the voice.

Wyatt was in the shower.

Less than ten feet away from him.

_Shit._

"When I'm drivin' in my car, and the man comes on the radio. He's tellin' me more and more, about some useless information, supposed to fire my imagination. I can't get no. Oh, no, no, no. Hey, hey, hey. That's what I say."

Unable to stop himself, Harry began to haltingly close the distance between himself and shower, and, when he had, he peaked around the corner.

He nearly stopped breathing.

It was a large, communal shower, which Harry had always found odd, because obviously only one person was supposed to use this bathroom at a time, if the lock on the door meant anything. Of course, that didn't mean that people didn't sometimes came into the room in pairs, but, in his opinion, the founders shouldn't have been thinking along _those_ lines when they made the bathrooms.

"I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction. 'Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try. I can't get no, I can't get no."

Wyatt stood under the water, his back to Harry, dancing to something only he could hear. Water ran through his golden hair in riveluts, and over his pale, slender back. Harry tried not to look any lower, he really did, but he was unable to stop himself. No matter how different from other people he knew, he _was_ a sixteen-year-old boy with hormones, and Wyatt _was_ his boyfriend, after all.

_Holy shit_, was all Harry was capable to think as his eyes fell lower. He _worshipped_ the image of a wet Wyatt Halliwell, completely nude, dancing to a Rolling Stones song that only he could hear the music to. His eyes lingered on a second tatoo, this one just above Wyatt's arse, near to where his spine ended, that portrayed a symbol of three curved shapes meeting and making an odd triangle, before they fell even lower. "When I'm watchin' my TV, and a man comes on and tells me, how white my shirts can be, but he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke the same cigarettes as me."

Harry was so completely immersed in the nether regions of Wyatt that he did not see when the blonde glanced over his shoulder and noticed him standing there. He did see, however, when Wyatt turned around and gave the brunette a wonderful portrait of him that he did not expect to forget anytime soon. His delight in the sight was short-lived, however, as he heard a voice. "Harry!"

He glanced up to find that Wyatt staring at him with a shocked, embarrassed expression on his face, and whirled around immediately, squeaking when he cried, "Sorry! I'm so sorry!" He trembled slightly, thinking, _he's going to kill me. I'm such a fucking pervert. He's going to hate me-_

He gasped when a hand landed on his shoulder, forcing him to turn back the other way, and halting his thoughts. He was both relieved and disappointed when he glanced down automatically and saw that Wyatt had a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked back up very slowly, fearing what he would see when he reached Wyatt's face, and was relieved almost to the point of laughter when he found Wyatt to be smiling at him.

"Has anyone ever told you that it's impolite to stare?" Wyatt asked, almost teasingly. Harry immediately flushed, mortified all over again. "I'm so sorry!" Harry gasped, pulling away from the hand that was still on his shoulder. Wyatt only stared at him, and Harry began to speak very fast, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, one that didn't sound entirely perverted, as to why he had been watching Wyatt as he showered. "I really am sorry! I just had a really weird dream and I thought I should take a shower and this one is so much better than the one in Gryffindor tower and I didn't realize that anyone would be in here so late, or early, or whatever it is, and I heard the shower on and I asked if someone was in there, I really did, but I guess you didn't hear me and I-"

He stopped speaking. He had no choice but to stop, really, because Wyatt, whose face he had been avoiding, had been watching him with an amused twinkle in his eyes and had suddenly grabbed his chin, forcing his face upwards, and kissed him.

_Oh, gods_.

It was there again - that same intensity and passion that Harry had felt the night Wyatt had kissed him the first time, the same intensity that he hadn't experienced since. This time, however, he wanted to be the one in control, and he took the initiative of licking Wyatt's lower lip. Wyatt immediately opened his mouth, allowing him entrance.

Harry wasn't really aware of when they had stumbled into the shower, but he pulled away from Wyatt when he felt himself being pushed under the hot spray of water, against the wall just behind it. He looked at Wyatt, but the blonde had his eyes closed, his lips parted ever-so-slightly, and Harry claimed those lips again, switching their positions so that the blonde found himself pressed against the wall. Wyatt grunted at the sudden change, but stopped fighting against the brunette when he found that he couldn't make Harry, small, thin Harry, budge from his newly-claimed spot.

His clothes were soaked completely through, but Harry found he didn't mind very much at the moment. He paused only when he felt hands push under the fabric of his shirt, and then responded with new enthusiasm, twining his own hands around Wyatt's neck and burying them in his blonde hair.

Things probably would have gotten more heated hadn't it been for the sound of someone gasping. Harry ripped himself away from Wyatt immediately, snapping his head in the direction of the sound. _Holy shit_, he thought again, this time for an entirely different, mortified reason. "Ginny!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"

Ginny Weasley stood, gaping at the two of them, at the entrance to the shower. She was clothed in a pair of pajamas, and a bundle of clothes, which Harry recognized as his own, were at her feet. Ginny looked between the two of them, and said, "It's six o'clock in the morning." Then, in a choked voice, she whispered, "Carry on," before turning heel and running from the room.

Harry stepped forward, but Wyatt grabbed his arm. Harry glanced at him to see the blonde shake his head, making droplets of water stream in all directions. "Don't, Harry." Harry pulled away, however, and followed after the sister of his best friend, ignoring Wyatt when he yelled, "I'm empathic, Harry! I can read emotions! Trust me, you shouldn't follow her!"

Harry caught up with the redhead just outside of the prefects' bathroom, where she was standing in the middle of the corridor, her hands over her face. "Ginny?" he questioned as he moved close. Ginny whirled around as he neared, and half-shouted, "How dare- how could-" She was unable to say what she wanted to say and so she pulled her arm back.

Harry braced himself for the slap he knew he was about to get, but was surprised when it never came. He opened his eyes and saw that Wyatt was standing next to Ginny, a pair of jeans the only thing he wore. He was panting as though he had just ran a mile and held her arm in place by her wrist. Ginny pulled away from him, shrieking, "He's supposed to be with me!" Harry could only stare at her in shock as she put her hands over her face again.

"Ginny," he said softly, and she glanced up at him. "I love you, Gin, but you're like a sister to me." Ginny nodded, sobbing as she said, "I know, but I always hoped..." She stopped and looked at Wyatt, who had relaxed and was staring at her with an odd expression that seemed sheepish, unsure, hopeful, breathless, and firm all at once. She began again, "If you hurt him, I'll..." Wyatt nodded as she stopped again, her message clear. She looked at Harry once more before she turned around.

"Wait, Ginny!" Harry cried, and Ginny stopped, her back to him as she whispered, "I won't tell anyone, Harry." Harry nodded before realizing that she couldn't see him. She was gone before he could speak, however, and he and Wyatt were left alone again. He looked at the blonde, who he realized had never looked away from him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" asked Wyatt. He reached forward as if to grab him, but Harry took a few steps back, avoiding his arms. "For ignoring you," said Harry. "How did you know she would try to slap me?" Wyatt smiled slightly, and this time, when he reached out, Harry collapsed into his arms, resting his head on his bare shoulder. "I told you, I'm empathic. She's protective of you... I think I can understand why Chris likes her. She's a little ball of fire, Ginny," he added with a grin.

"Maybe she'll like him, too, now."

"Maybe," said Wyatt. He pulled away from Harry and said, with a look of disappointment that Harry realized was entirely fake, "Now, Harry, m'dear, we have to talk about your little fetish for staring at people while they're taking showers..."

Oh.

Oops.

* * *

To the loyal readers and reviewers:

_Ladida:_ I'm flattered (and embarrassed). I'm glad that you liked the last chapter - I thought it turned out really badly, but I couldn't change it without taking out the fight between Ron and Wyatt, which I realized I needed in that chapter, unless I wanted to wait another chapter for the prank. It's no wonder that I'm surprised that anyone likes this story, is it? Anyway, thank you - I thought the veil thing was great, too. I was trying to come up with ideas for what Malfoy would do to Harry that would make Wyatt so angry, and it just came to me! What did you think about Wyatt's reaction? I hope you enjoyed this chapter, Ladida. Personally, I enjoyed the ending... hehe... bad Harry!

_Essenity:_ I'm sorry if I didn't make myself more clear - Wyatt and Ron were saying that the Slytherins, who the Fat Lady had confirmed as the pranksters, were dead. And don't worry, your idea makes perfect sense. I've looked under your name, (I read Pain Free - it's an excellent story, by the way, and I hope you'll put up the next chapter soon!), and I would read the crossovers, but I unfortunately have never seen Yu-Gi-Oh and would be hopelessly lost. I was a pokemaniac, back in the day (it's a hard role to grow out of!). I might take your idea into consideration, if the story is low on reviews at some point in the future. I have updated twice in one day, and I hope this chapter was good!

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please Review!** I'm not going to make a speech like I have in the last few chapters, because, although my batch of loyal reviewers is small (but growing - thanks, guys!), I do have good reviewers. I am going to ask you to be polite and leave a review, if you can find the time to. So leave a review, or a flame, but please, be constructive in your criticism (just push the little blue button under this and write some stuff in the box!). That's all, and thanks again to the loyal reviewers! You guys rock!


	12. C11: The Charmed Ones

**Title:** Reaching For the Red Moon

**Author:** Llawela Dragon

**Pairing(s):** Wyatt/Harry, Paige/Severus, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Chris, and others

**Rating:** R

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this story belongs to me, Llawela Dragon, except for Phoebe's children, any other characters you do not recognize, and the plot. Harry Potter belongs to that literary goddess, J.K. Rowling, and I'm sure she'd have a stroke if she saw what fan fiction writers did to her characters.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for OoTP, Slash

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary:** A Charmed/Harry Potter crossover. When Wyatt Halliwell has a very disturbing vision of the death of Harry Potter, his family decides to take action, and moves across the atlantic to Hogwarts. There are some things that Wyatt left out of his recount, however, and things are being put into motion now that the Halliwells have arrived. What follows is the tale of two boys and their friendship that becomes more, all leading up to the final battle with the creature that would not be stopped.

**Author's Notes:** Okay, so I've finished the eleventh chapter, and it only took a month! Heh... sorry! I was sick with the flu, as I said in my profile earlier (although I doubt anyone looks there... or here, for that matter...). Some parts are a little _iffy_, but please be kind, as this is my first slash piece. I wrote this entire chapter while listening to _Fly High Michelle_ by _Enuff Z'Nuff_ and to show my gratitude to Donnie Vie and the guys for their great song, which undoubtedly helped me past my writer's block, I made it Harry's favorite song! And yes, it was all I listened to (forover fifteenhours!) while I wrote this. I urge everyone to listen to it - it's a beautiful song. Now, I hope this chapter makes up for the month you all waited, and I promise that the action will really begin in the next chapter, starting with quidditch try-outs and a closer look at Wyatt's new broomstick!The next update shouldn't take so long - today's a snow day, andtomorrow will probably be one, too (but even if it isn't, I don't have school), and the rest of the week is all exams, meaning I have a lot of free time. Enjoy!

**Current Chapter:** Chapter 11 - The Charmed Ones

**Begins on:** Tuesday, October 5th

* * *

"So, this is what your real house is like?" Harry asked. Wyatt smiled and nodded, absently rubbing his thumb over the back of Harry's hand, which he held in his own, as they walked through the foyer and into the livingroom of the 'house' that the Room of Requirement had been transformed into earlier that year to accomodate his parents and aunts. They, along with the rest of the professors and the students, were at breakfast, which Harry and Wyatt had left shortly after Hermione had somehow turned the discussion about Quidditch practice, which was to begin later that evening with try-outs to replace the two chasers and, possibly, the beaters, to the D.A., which she was believed should be restarted. For the benefit of everyone, she had said. 

It hadn't taken long for Harry and Hermione to explain the entire concept to him; D.A. stood for Dumbledore's Army, a group of students that, under the instruction of Harry, had, last year, practiced Defense Against the Dark Arts in response to the useless lessons that had been forced upon them by their ministerial professor, Dolores Umbridge. When he had learned that the Room of Requirement was the meeting place of the group, Wyatt had pulled Harry aside to tell him that a new meeting place would need to be found, and that admission had led to them heading upstairs so that Harry could see what had become of it.

"Everything is exactly the same?" Harry questioned, pulling his hand loose as he crossed the livingroom to look at the pictures that lined the opposite wall. "Mostly," said Wyatt. "Some personal objects are missing, obviously, but it's otherwise an exact replica. My mom brought some stuff over from our house. Speaking of which, don't look in the freezer." Harry looked at him, an eyebrow raised, before turning back to the pictures. "Why? Is that were you keep the decaying demon bodies?"

Harry tried not to blush at the apparent stupidity of his question when Wyatt began to laugh. He was startled and fought half-heartedly when arms wrapped around him from behind, but Wyatt held him and kissed a spot just under his ear before resting his head on his shoulder. "Is that you?" Harry asked, changing the subject, as he pointed at a picture of a smiling child whose his head topped with messy blonde hair; one of his front teeth was missing. He appeared quite proud.

He felt Wyatt nod against his shoulder, and fell silent as he looked closely at the other pictures, easily picking out the ones of Wyatt as he grew older; it was easy, as Wyatt appeared to be the only blonde Halliwell. "Demons disappear when they die," said Wyatt suddenly, and Harry twisted around in his arms, a question in his eyes. He and Wyatt were nearly the same height, so that it would be almost impossible to tell who was taller. Wyatt smiled at him, and repeated, "Demons disappear when they die." He added, "They combust, or burst into ashes. I guess you'll see it someday."

Harry frowned darkly, and pulled out his arms, turning to head for the stairs. Wyatt frowned, too. "You know, I once saw a demon explode in a shower of rose petals," Wyatt said lightly as he followed Harry across the room and back into the foyer. "When I was six, I made a demon sing." Before he had even reached the stairs, Harry changed direction and walked into the diningroom, looking through it quickly before moving into the kitchen. When he spoke, however, Harry paused and smiled. Wyatt noticed and added, "It's true. It was even dancing."

Harry finally stopped near the cabinet housing the potion ingredients they used, and asked in a strange voice, "Like the armor on the third floor?" He was referring to, Wyatt knew, earlier that morning when, while chasing Harry through the halls to 'punish' him for the shower incident, Wyatt had whispered a spell that had caused a suit of armor to jump up and not only sing, in a scratchy, unpleasent voice, Metallica's _Sad but True_, but also dance in a way that would have made any ballerina jealous.

Wyatt grinned. Harry had frozen in shock when it had happened, unintentionally giving Wyatt just enough time to catch up to him and tackle him into a classroom, where he had enacted his punishment, which had included giving Harry a new love bite where it was guaranteed that nobody would see. As Harry recalled this, he absently rubbed at the spot on his stomach. Wyatt noticed and grinned, and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "You're lucky that I didn't kick you when you did that," he huffed, gesturing to his stomach, before turning his back to Wyatt and pretending to be interested in a cabinet that was apparently full of spices, "You had me shocked for a moment, back there."

Suddenly, Wyatt was behind him, whispering directly into his ear, "You were hoping I'd go lower." His voice was soft and unaccusing, and Harry blinked and flushed, his dream from the night before rushing back into his thoughts. He felt rather than saw Wyatt smirk at him, and shivered when Wyatt wrapped his arms around him again. "Did you have a nice dream, _Harry?_" he asked, whispering his name in the same husky voice that Harry had heard in his dream.

Harry was aware that Wyatt was kissing and nibbling at his neck, pushing the collar of his robes and oversized t-shirt out of the way in order to move to his shoulders, and then tightening his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. He also knew that Wyatt was waiting for an answer, but kept his mouth, as well as his eyes, shut tightly, even as he felt Wyatt pull back for a moment. He opened them when he felt his robes be pushed away, dropped carelessly to the ground. "Well?" Wyatt prompted.

"Yes," Harry finally gasped, and he twisted around in Wyatt's arms again, only this time he didn't pull away. Wyatt smiled at him before kissing him, his lips teasingly light against Harry's. But despite the soft innocence of the kiss, Wyatt's other actions were anything but chaste. Harry was pushed further into the counter until he found himself sitting on it, his back arched over it as Wyatt leaned over him.

_This was higher a second ago_, the brunette thought in regards to the counter, which suddenly seemed much closer to the ground than it had been when he had been leaning against it just seconds ago. Harry suddenly realized that Wyatt, who was still kissing him in that sweet, innocent way, was positioned between his legs, his hips pressed firmly into his groin, and he moaned.

Wyatt pulled back slightly and, in the same husky voice, he said, "All you had to do was ask." Harry's eyes shot open as he processed the statement, and he stared at the smirking Wyatt in shock. "You-," Harry managed to gasp before Wyatt's hands were under his shirt, pushing it up. Harry did not fight it; after all, who was he to argue?

His shirt was on the floor with his robes and Wyatt was kissing a fiery path down his chest, leaving small red marks and tingling skin in his wake. It seemed impossible to Harry that he was able to support himself, half-seated on the counter as he was, but even as he questioned the uselessness of the thought, Wyatt had reached the waistband of his pants and was looking up at him.

Harry looked back at him, confused. Why had he stopped? And then he realized. Wyatt didn't want to do anything that would make him uncomfortable; he was asking for his permission. Harry thought for only a split second before he gasped, "Please."

Wyatt smiled. A breathtakingly beautiful smile, the likes of which Harry had never seen before. And then the blonde was moving again, leaning up to kiss him even as he tugged at his pants, pulling them and his boxers down past his knees. Harry's face burned, but out of embarrassment or need, he wasn't sure, as Wyatt dropped to his knees once more, but any thoughts he had disappeared when...

Harry moaned. There was no teasing caresses; it was all hot lips and wet tongue and grazing teeth, and Harry felt the countertop melt away from under him, even as he clenched his hands around the edge, until it was only him, Wyatt, and Wyatt's mouth.

In the shock of everything, accompained by the powerful new feelings he was getting, it didn't take long for Harry to come with a hoarse shout, and the next thing he knew, he was lying on the cold floor on his back, with Wyatt next to him, and they were both breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Wyatt asked, and Harry realized that his eyes were still closed and that he was trembling. "Yes," he was able to whisper. They lay, side-by-side, on the floor for several minutes. The only sound beside their erractic breathing was a clock ticking somewhere above them.

When he could breath normally, Harry opened his eyes, and turned his head to the left. Wyatt still had his eyes closed, but he was breathing normal, a peaceful look on his red face.

Harry opened his mouth, but before he could say what he had meant to, Wyatt said, "Don't worry about me. I'm empathic, remember?" Wyatt leaned up on his elbows and smiled. Harry smiled unsurely back, his face flushing. He had just realized that his pants were still around his ankles, and hastily pulled them up, even as Wyatt grinned at him. "So, better than your dream or-?"

"Wyatt!" yelped Harry, slapping him half-heartedly on the arm. After a moment, Harry rolled over onto the blonde. Harry took a closer look at his face. He was still slightly pink and his lips were swollen, but his eyes were sparkling and he was smiling. "You're beautiful," he breathed, and was delighted when Wyatt turned bright red. Before he could turn away, Harry leaned down and kissed him deeply; he felt completely at peace with the world. Nothing could bother him now.

"Holy shit!"

Except that.

Harry rolled away from Wyatt and found himself staring up at the disbelieving faces of, not only all of the elder Halliwells and Leo, but also his headmaster and Remus Lupin. Harry gaped up at them, completely and utterly aware of how they must look. His shirt and robes were on the other side of the kitchen, and there were small red love bites all over his shoulders and chest. Wyatt was slightly more presentable then he, but his hair was a mess and his lips were still swollen. Still, Wyatt didn't have robes on, and was dressed in a pair of jeans and a tight, white tank-top.

"Uh-I-We-," Harry stuttered, turning bright red as six pairs of shocked eyes stared at him and Wyatt; well, to be honest, Dumbledore and Phoebe didn't look shocked. The former looked highly amused and the latter looked both amused and flustered, and Harry wondered briefly if Wyatt wasn't the only one harbouring more than one power. They stared at each other for several tense moments before Dumbledore, looking to Piper, said brightly, "We'll just head back to my office, and let you and Leo handle this." He smiled knowingly at his two students, gave Piper and Leo a meaningful look, and then he, Remus, and Phoebe turned to leave the room, dragging a bemused Paige along with them.

Wyatt looked closely at his parents as four of the eight in the room left. His mother, although she certainly looked surprised, did not appear shocked or angry, and his father, although he looked horrified, only seemed to be upset that he hadn't seen it sooner. At the same time, however, he looked as if he had known about all along, which confused Wyatt to no end. He was tempted to look more deeply until he realized that Harry was still stuttering next to him.

He pushed himself up from the floor and grabbed Harry's hand, hauling the brunette up. Harry stopped making gurgling noises in his throat and settled for staring, red-faced, at the floor. He tried to pull his hand free, but Wyatt's grip on his hand was tight and unrelenting. "Well, I guess we," began Piper, before she changed her mind and asked, "Do you have something to tell us, Wyatt?"

Wyatt glanced between his parents again, trying to determine their exact feelings, but found, to his consternation, that both seemed to be blocking, not only their feelings on the matter, but also their thoughts. He felt himself beginning to turn red, but decided to be strong for Harry's sake. He took a deep breath and said, "Mom, dad."

"Yes?" pushed Piper when he stopped.

"Mom, dad," began Wyatt again, looking at the same time nervous and slightly annoyed, "I'm gay."

For one exruciating second, Piper and Leo stared at the two teens before them without expression, before Piper rolled her eyes and said, "We know, Wyatt." She and his father smiled. "Is there anything else?" She looked pointedly at Harry, who was still staring at the floor. He was trying to figure out a way to explain the marks on his chest.

"You... knew?" said Wyatt, shocked. He now recalled Chris telling him, "_Besides, I'm sure that mom knows already. She always says how she only wants you to be happy, and then she looks at you with these big eyes that say, 'tell me and I promise it'll be okay.' You know, for someone who always sees what he needs to, you're blind when it comes to what's right in front of you._" Ignoring his feeling of stupidity, he pushed onward. "Okay, then. Mom, dad, this is Harry. My boyfriend." Harry's face turned a darker red, but he managed to look up and even half-smile. He remembered his aunt shrilly telling him that _first impressions last, boy!_

"It's nice to meet you, Harry," said Piper, smiling kindly, even though she already knew Harry Potter from class. She also knew _of_ him; he was the 'savior' of the wizarding world, the boy that, at the tender age of one, had nearly defeated the Dark Lord that now threatened her life and the lives of countless others. Remembering this, she looked between the him and her son, and realized with a start that they were quite alike in the sense that they both had the weight of the world upon their shoulders. "I'm Piper, and this is my husband, Leo. I don't believe you've formally met."

She held out her hand and Harry shyly shook it. She smiled affectionately. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but he did look quite embarrassed to have been caught, and there was the matter of the red bite marks on his chest. She glanced at Wyatt, who had noticed her looking at these marks, and blushed. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hal- Wyatt," Harry said.

"Call me Leo," said Leo warmly. Wyatt just stared at them in shock. _Really,_ a sly voice in his head that sounded like Chris said, _did you expect our parents to hate you because of something as silly as this?_ Wyatt focused on the voice, and realized with a start that it _was_ his brother. _GET LOST,_ he shouted, and was rewarded with Chris screaming at him, _Be quiet! Do you want my head to explode?_ He smiled. "Don't yell at your brother, Wyatt," said Piper, and Wyatt lost his smile and huffed.

"Huh?" said Harry, looking confused. Wyatt looked at him and realized that he had never told Harry about their telepathic connection. "I told you that I'm telepathic, right?" Harry nodded. Piper and Leo exchanged a look, but Wyatt ignored them. "Well, I can communicate telepathically with other people if I want to. I'm linked to my parents, Chris, my aunts, and Paris and Prue." Harry nodded again, and let the matter drop.

"So, what's going on?" Wyatt asked, noticing that his parents had dropped their barriers and were letting their emotions and thoughts show. He shut them out, but managed to understand that they were needed elsewhere. Piper said, "We have a meeting to go to. Why don't you get dressed and meet us outside? We'll take you." She looked sternly at Wyatt and thought to him, _Don't think you're getting away so easily, mister. You, your dad, Harry, and I are going to have a nice long talk about what happened here._ Wyatt tried not to flush, but was sure he had turned slightly red, even as he thought back, _We didn't do anything, and even if we did, I don't see how it's any of your business_.

After they had left, Harry pulled his hand free and lunged across the room, grabbing up his t-shirt, which was black and said _Enuff Z'Nuff,_ and pulled it on quickly. Wyatt smiled as he fumbled to get it on. "You can leave your robes behind, if you want," he said. Harry seemed to think about this, but then he threw his robes on, anyway, crossing the room at the same time.. "Your parents don't hate me, do they?" he asked when he reached Wyatt.

"Of course not!" said Wyatt, shocked that Harry had even considered this. "Come on," he said after a moment of uncomfortable silence, jerking his head towards the foyer. Harry took the initiative of grabbing his hand, and they walked through the kitchen, diningroom, and foyer in silence. Leo and Piper were standing silently just across the hall when they stepped out.

"Let's get going. We were supposed to be there ten minutes ago," said Leo, and they began the walk to Dumbledore's office. After a few minutes of silence, Wyatt glanced at Harry, who had pulled his hand away the second they had stepped into the hall, and, with a grin, he sang softly, "_Everybody wants to find it, it's just they're all so narrow-minded, they see a hill, they've gotta climb it, maybe pots of gold behind it_." Harry glanced at him, grinning. "You know Enuff Z'Nuff songs? I didn't even think they're considered actual rock 'n' roll."

"I admit it," said Wyatt, putting his hand over his heart dramatically, "I do like some songs that are not strictly in the hard rock genre. _Worry, worry is your answer, if you like your wrinkles faster._" Harry smiled widely. "_ Nursing old things make them last, the way we did in the past, with everybody telling you, you've got no respect. Get high on a new thing. Get high on a new thing!_"

"That's enough, Wyatt," said his mother as they reached the stone gargoyle. Wyatt stuck his tongue out at her back, and she said patiently, "I saw that." Harry started laughing, and Piper rolled her eyes as Wyatt joined in. "_Hershey kisses_," she said authoritively to the gargoyle, which leapt aside to reveal the revolving staircase, which the small group stepped upon.

As the staircase brought them to the doors, Harry stopped laughing and calmed himself down. Wyatt was still singing _New Thing_ under his breath, but Harry steadily ignored him. Once they had reached the landing, Wyatt had stopped and schooled his features into a carefully blank expression. As Piper reached out to knock on the door, Dumbledore's voice from within boomed, "Come in, Ms. Halliwell." Piper blinked and Harry smiled; the headmaster always seemed to know who was at his door.

Piper reached out and pushed the door open, and immediately, the soft murmer of voices stopped. Harry realized that something was wrong the moment he stepped into the room. Everybody was staring at him, and both Phoebe and Paige had angry looks on their faces. Remus looked a little annoyed, as well, and Dumbledore was not smiling. He looked around the room, his face turning slightly red as he realized that they were staring at Wyatt, as well, and noticed that, besides the usual order members, including Moody, Tonks, Lupin, the Weasleys (Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fred, and George), Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dedalus Diggle, Mundungus Fletcher, and others, there were some new people whom he didn't know. Snape and McGonagall were also there.

"Well, I know I'm gorgeous, but really, it's impolite to stare." Harry glanced at Wyatt and found the blonde to be glaring at each and every person in the room that was still looking at Harry and himself As several order members either looked away blushing or began to mumble under their breath, Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Why don't you all have a seat? We were just discussing your, ah, _current situation_ here at Hogwarts, Harry, my boy." He smiled thinly, looking faintly embarrassed himself.

Very quickly, Harry realized that everyone in the room _knew_. "Oh," he squeaked, his face turning red. Emotions welled in him. Other than being embarrassed, he was angry; angry at Dumbledore for telling, angry at Phoebe, Paige, and Remus for letting him, angry at everyone staring at him and talking behind his back about _his_ life when it was really none of their business what he did with it-

_Wait a second._

The room was silent.

_Why is everyone frozen?_

"Wyatt Matthew Halliwell!" shrieked Piper suddenly, and Harry realized that Wyatt, Piper, and Leo were still moving, as well as Phoebe, who had calmed and now looked amused, and Paige, who had sighed and leaned back in her chair, flicking hair out of her eyes. He twisted around to see that Piper was glaring at her eldest son, who had his hands up, a sheepish look on his face. "Unfreeze them, this instant!" Wyatt lowered his hands, but the others stayed frozen, and he looked at Harry. _Are you okay?_ he mouthed. Harry took a deep breath and nodded. "I can do the same thing to them that I did yesterday to the others, if you want," Wyatt said aloud, ignoring the confused looks he received from his family. Harry considered this, and then he realized something.

Wyatt's parents knew about them; hell, his entire family knew about them, with the possible exceptions of Paris and Prue! Hermione knew, as well Dumbledore and Remus, and it appeared as if they didn't care, that they might accept it, even. And while the others in the room certainly looked upset, he found that their opinions didn't matter much to him. He hadn't wanted them to know, but he couldn't very well depend on Wyatt to erase the memories of everyone who found out just because he was embarrassed, could he? The only people whose opinions mattered now were the Weasleys'. Well, the only people _alive_ whose opinions mattered, at any rate.

"I'll be okay, I think."

Wyatt stared at him closely for a moment longer, and then waved one hand carelessly. Immediately, the whispers began again, and people began to shift in their seats restlessly. Piper and Leo moved into seats that Phoebe and Paige had saved, and Harry and Wyatt fell into a small sofa near the Weasleys. Fred and George both winked at them, and Harry felt himself blush again. _There has got to be a limit on the amount of times that a person can blush in one day. This is ridiculous_, thought Harry, and as he fought the blush down, he noticed Wyatt smiling at him, and realized that he must be using his telepathy.

"Now that everyone is settled," said Dumbledore in a stern voice, "I think that we can turn back to our original topic of discussion-"

"I think that we should talk about _that_ first," said Moody gruffly, pointing at Harry and Wyatt with one crooked finger. The two were sitting very closely together on the couch, despite the fact that there was enough space for them to sit comfortably apart. Piper immediately said in an angry voice, "I don't think that it's any of your business-"

"Of course it is! Harry's welfare is our number one concern-" cried out Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry's welfare? You make it sound like my nephew is going to hurt him!" growled Phoebe.

"For all we know, he might-" crowed Tonks, although she was smiling at Harry in a suggestive way. When Harry looked at her, she mouthed, _I want details_. Harry blushed again.

"I assure you that you have nothing to worry about," said Leo, but he was ignored as everyone in the room began voicing their concerns. Harry realized that the few that kept quiet were the ones that looked disgusted, but that the majority of the order members were concerned.

"Wyatt is not a Death Eater!" Paige cried out, at the same time that Mrs. Weasley said, "In all honesty we don't know a single thing about these Americans, Albus. You haven't told us anything-"

Everyone in the room fell silent as Fred stood. He still managed to sound amused as he said seriously, "When the day comes that two young men cannot be in a sexual relationship without having to worry that their friends and family think that one of them is going to kill the other, it is a sad day, indeed!" He sat down, smiling, but his words had the opposite effect than the one he had been aiming for; then again, for all Wyatt knew, he might have _wanted_ to rile the crowd up further. _It worked_.

"Who said anything about sex?" shrieked both Piper and Mrs. Weasley at the same time. Harry and Wyatt glanced at eachother in embarrassment, remembering certain earlier events that had taken place in a kitchen, and then looked away, both of them blushing deeply.

"I do not want to speak _or_ hear about Potter's sex life," snarled Snape, looking slightly green in the face, and Harry sunk deeper into the couch, his face turning an even darker shade of red. As the adults began to shout furiously amongst themselves once more, Wyatt whispered to Harry, "Do you want me to orb us out of here? I think we can make it if my dad doesn't realize what we're doing." Harry said, "Hurry," and gripped Wyatt's hand tightly, but before Wyatt could even begin to orb, a voice cut through the crowd. "That is quite enough! Mr. Halliwell and Mr. Potter, do _stay put_!"

The room fell silent at Dumbledore's outburst. "Now," said Dumbledore, his voice calm and smooth once again, "we have argued enough for one day. I believe that you are all concerned about the Halliwells and what they are doing in Hogwarts?" The crowd collectively nodded. "Than we will address this concern first. If anyone is still worried about the relationship between Mr. Halliwell and Mr. Potter, we will address it _later_, agreed?" He didn't wait for an answer, and continued, "Ms. Halliwell, would you like to speak, or shall I?" Piper motioned for him to take the floor, and Dumbledore began, "Piper, Phoebe, and Paige, as I explained to Rubeus, Severus, and Minerva at the beginning of the year, are three of the most powerful wiccans alive." As the crowd began to mumble, Dumbledore held up his hand and continued, "They are the Charmed Ones."

At once, a huge roar erupted from the gathered order members as everyone began to speak and yell at the same time. Dumbledore tried to get their attention, but they were no longer paying attention to him, and he sighed and popped a lemon drop into his mouth, looking pointedly at Wyatt, who grinned nastily and said, "Cover your ears, Harry." Harry looked at him in confusion, but then disentangled his hand from Wyatt's and slapped both of them over his ears without question.

Wyatt lifted his hands and, after a moment, he thrust them forward. Immediately, a huge _crack_ sounded in the room, and Harry gaped in wonder as several of what appeared to be _fireworks_ took off over the crowd, which fell silent. Almost everyone either winced or slammed their hands over their ears. Dumbledore looked pleasently surprised. "Most excellent work, Mr. Halliwell." Wyatt smiled, and Dumbledore turned to address the crowd once more.

As they argued over the Halliwells, Harry began to feel nervous. Wyatt was not simply a wiccan, he knew. That would surely feed the concerns of the others? Wyatt linked their arms together and smiled at him as he read Harry's feelings. "What's your favorite song, Harry?" he whispered, and Harry looked at him, not noticing that several of the people in the room had turned to look at them.

"Fly High Michelle," he said promptly, forgetting for a moment that he was not alone with Wyatt, and Wyatt grinned. "Not a Rolling Stones' song?" he asked, twirling one of his fingers in the hem of Harry's _Enuff Z'Nuff_ shirt. Harry shook his head. "_I'll say another prayer tonight, and I'll see you in the light. You had to give it up, when you were just a little girl. I'll never look into your blue eyes. Fly high Michelle._"

"Mr. Halliwell?" Harry blinked and looked around to see he and Wyatt were being stared at, but he found that he felt strangely calm and unconcerned with the attention. He looked suspiciously at Wyatt, who only smiled. "Would you like to share something with us?" continued Dumbledore, smiling serenly. Wyatt shrugged and announced, "Just that I'm a genius." Dumbledore chuckled and turned back to the crowd, beginning the discussion once again.

Harry relaxed against the sofa, trying to ignore the looks that he and Wyatt continued to get. "What did you do to me?" he asked the blonde out of the corner of his mouth. Wyatt smiled and said, "I just calmed you down. You were a nervous wreck." Wyatt leaned closer to him, but even as Harry began to close his eyes in anticipation of the kiss, Wyatt looked past him and scowled, pulling away.

Harry looked at him in confusion, and then glanced over his shoulder to see Mrs. Weasley glaring at Wyatt. He felt his heart sink and looked away. The arguements lasted for a few minutes longer, and then the conversation turned abruptly to wiccan magic After Piper, Phoebe, and Paige explained their powers (and Harry learned that Phoebe was indeed empathic), the crowd turned expectantly to Wyatt.

Wyatt was still scowling, and he kept his mouth shut, even when Dumbledore asked him to explain his powers. Piper tried to get him to talk, but he only glowered, still upset that one of the people Harry considered family was glaring at him. Looking exasperated, Piper picked up a dagger that Paige had orbed in, and hurled it at Wyatt. Wyatt narrowed his eyes, but nothing happened. It continued on it's way, and before anyone could stop it, it was lodged in his stomach. "Wyatt!" cried both Piper and Harry, who had leapt up the second the dagger had hit him.

Wyatt looked up at Harry, who was standing over him and staring down at the dagger in horror, and winced. "Oh shit-! I'm so sorry, Harry, I completely forgot." He stood up and wrenched the dagger out of his gut, and Harry watched as blue lights absorbed the gaping wound. "I'm self-healing. Dont you remember when Ron punched me?" He ignored Mr. Weasley exclamation of shock. Harry was silent and simply stood gaping at the dagger in his left hand, which still shone with Wyatt's blood, having completely forgotten about this power. Wyatt looked at the dagger and then tossed it into the air, flicking his wrist at it. Paige cried out in alarm as it exploded.

Harry still stood, dumbstruck. _I did not just see my boyfriend get stabbed and then shrug it off as if he was more concerned about the fact that I had seen it happen than the fact that it actually happened_, he told himself. Wyatt smiled almost unsurely at him. "A lot worse has happened to me before, Harry. It was nothing. Just a little scratch." He pulled up his shirt, showing unblemished pale skin where there had previously been a serious wound. "See, all healed," he said, showing everyone in the room as well as Harry. "It's one of the perks of being half-"

Before could explain that it was all part of having whitelighter blood, Harry grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him very close, hissing into his face, "If you ever do something that stupid ever again, I swear to God that I will lock you in Gryffindor tower and make sure that you're never within three miles of a sharp object ever again. Do you understand?" Wyatt's eyes widened. Someone, probably Fred or George, snickered. Piper looked torn; she was glad that Harry was concerned about Wyatt's safety, but also annoyed that he was admonishing her son before she had gotten the chance to.

"Yes, Harry," squeaked Wyatt, utterly shocked and even, althouhg he would never admit it to anyone, a little frightened. The others in the room may not sense it, but Harry was currently oozing power, and along with the fact that he looked extremely pissed, he was quite scary in that moment.

Harry glared at him for a moment longer, and then released his shirt. The uncomfortable silence was broken when somebody in the far corner of the room said, "I guess we don't have to ask who's on top." Wyatt's jaw dropped in horror as his family turned to him, their expressions torn between disbelieving shock and questioning amusement. The chuckling began again. He looked at Harry, but he did not look embarrassed. In fact, he looked _pleased_. Wyatt sputtered, "I do not- I am not a- I have never-"

"Quiet, Wyatt," said Harry, looking highly amused. "You knew it was only a matter of time before everyone found out." He smiled. "I honestly don't see what you're so embarrassed about. A lot of guys prefer it that way." Someone sputtered, and Harry glanced quickly over his shoulder to see that Leo seemed to be having some type of coughing fit.

Wyatt's eyes narrowed. _Oh, so you want to play, do you_? He saw Harry's smile falter. In a caring tone, he said meaningfully, "I'm not the one who asked to be tied up, though." Other people began to choke, and Harry heard several others gasp. His jaw dropped. _What the hell? I never-_ "It's okay, Harry," said Wyatt soothingly, reaching out to pat his shoulder. Harry slapped his arm away and Wyatt grinned. "I understand that you have a problem, but I'm willing to work around it if you are."

"Why, I never- You little ba-" began Harry.

"That's quite enough, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. Harry looked over and found that the bearded headmaster was smiling, clearly not fooled by either of them. "You and Wyatt can leave, now. We can take it from here." He looked at his watch and added, "You can both skip the rest of herbology and get a head start on lunch, if that suits you." Wyatt grabbed Harry's arm and said, "Come along, baby. I have some handcuffs in my room." And before Harry could shout at him, Wyatt had dragged him out of the room, which had exploded with giggles and whispers. _Children! They're all children!_

"You bastard!" gasped Harry once they had stepped into the hallway. Wyatt let go of his arm and doubled over, laughing. "Oh, you know you deserved it, making it seem like I was the submissive one in this relationship when it is perfectly clear that you yourself are," said Wyatt once he the hysterics had passed and he had caught his breath. "I can't believe you said that in front of my _dad_."

Harry glared at him, and suddenly, Wyatt was being slammed into the wall directly across from the gargoyle. His head connected with the stone; his vision swam. He swayed, but as soon as he had regained his balance, he began to shout, "Ow! Harry, that-" but was cut off when he found himself being pulled into a hard kiss. "Submissive, my arse," Harry growled against his lips.

The kiss was rough and passionate, and Wyatt ignored the fact that his head ached as he lost himself in it. He came crashing back down to earth, however, when Harry suddenly and without warning plunged the hand that wasn't tangled in his hair into his jeans, wrapping it tightly around his erection. He gasped very loudly. "Harry, what are you do- _Oh, fuck_!"

"If you don't want to get caught, I suggest you orb, _now_," Harry mumbled distractedly as he moved his hand roughly over his aching member. Wyatt had screwed his eyes shut, but as soon as the words registered in his mind, he orbed them out of the hallway and into his bedroom in the Room of Requirement. It was dark, but that suited them just perfectly.

"_Harry!_"

* * *

To the loyal readers and reviewers:

_Essenity:_ Welcome back! I'm going to respond chapter-by-chapter. Regarding chapter one, I'm not sure whether or not I should be suspicious or not of what you wrote: _nice uh... talking going on between the characters_. It was a very vocal chapter, though, I agree, and some things were a little _uh._ Chapter two was fun to write... the twins are so very melodramatic, are they not?... and diagon alley is, in my opinion, the best place in the Wizarding World after Hogwarts. Chapter three was loads of fun and laughs for me when I wrote it, what with Wyatt chewing out Malfoy, hexing his brother, and meeting Harry for the first time. I like your idea about Wyatt using his powers... it is coming up soon, in the next chapter or the one after that, during a Hogsmeade weekend. And _yes_, there is going to be a part where Wyatt is high on sugar! I don't think you're evil! Let's see... next chapter. You're right, Wyatt definitely is different on the show, but he's two (right?) now, and the future has changed, so his evil I'm-gonna-kill-you-right-now-but-not-before-I-take-that-nice-piece-of-thing-you-have-right-there persona has, hopefully, changed. Hmm... Wyatt is a bit of a nutcase, though... you see that when he gets angry, or into fights. Wyatt's singing is an important talent of his that's needed (to make the story more cheesy/romantic?), and you'll see why soon!

_White Ivy:_ I'm glad that you liked the shower scene, and I'm not discouraged at all - as long as I know that at least a few people like it, I have a reason to keep on writing! Thank you.

_Furies:_ I'm so happy that you like this story that much! Thank you for your kind comments and for reviewing.

_Jack Wilde_: Thank you! Wyatt, hot... definitely! He was a brunette when I started writing, but I always pictured Harry being with someone with either red (Ginny) or blonde (Draco) hair, and so I decided that blonde was a better choice for Wyatt (and he's got golden brown hair as a toddler, so...). I wrote that Harry was a brunette under the assumption that _brunette_ meant _someone with dark or brown hair_, and I do mention him as one quite a lot, don't I? I hate writing names over and over; it becomes monotone, in my opinion. Paige and Snape... it'll happen. I'm working on it. I had a whole scene where Wyatt was attacking Snape and Paige saved him, but I had to cut it. I think I'm going to update it and stick it in a different chapter, though. Wyatt is Leo's last name (I'm 99.9 sure). When you write a fic, let me know where I can find it, because I'd love to read it! I hope that you find the right person, and thank you again!

_Lady-of-the-Dragon-Flame_: Thank you so much! Don't worry - action is definitely coming in the next few chapters, and you'll see more swords soon! Thank you for saying that this story is well-written and creative. As I wrote above, Snape and Paige will come together, but I may not go into there relationship in great detail... it does seem like a hard couple to put together, now that I think about it, but I'm not giving up on them! Thank you again!

_StarWest45:_ I'm glad you liked it and that you think the couple is working! Thank you!

_Therio:_ Thank you! I hope that you like the new chapters as much as the others!

_Ladida_: You're back! Yay! Thank you so much! His reaction was great, wasn't it? I tried to make it as _he's-mine-and-I'll-flay-you-within-an-inch-of-your-life-if-I-catch-you-so-much-as-looking-at-him-in-a-negative-way_ as possible! I'm glad you liked the shower scene, and I can understand your predicament... my dad would have a coronary if he saw this story on my computer - good thing it's password-protected! Thank you for reviewing and for being such a great fan. I hope to see you at the next update, and I'm terribly sorry that I made you wait so long for this chapter!

_Hazza123:_ Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Now, that's four thank you's for three kind comments and one piece of great advice!

_Charmedsisters:_ It's nice to see you again! Thank you! I love HP/Charmed crossovers, too, but I haven't found many _really_ good ones, unfortunately, and I really only like ones with Wyatt in them. Thanks again and I hope the rest of the story is as enjoyable as the beginning!

_TheGnrJunkie:_ Thank you, and don't worry about not being able to point out my mistakes. I'm glad you like my story. About the R-rating... maybe it wasn't exactly R material, but I wanted to be careful. Also, I am a girl, and you're partially-right about my knowledge of, ah, _certain things_, but we'll see what happens when I get to that part of the story. Thanks again, and come back, because the action is on its way, along with more music. Speaking of music, I love in-a-gadda-da-vido, and you have my eternal gratitude for writing it out like you did. I always pronounce it in-da-gadda-da-vida, but I have a feeling that you're right. Did you know that on an episode of Rugrats Angelica actually says _in-a-gadda-da-vido_ while trying to do a magic trick? Maybe not... I was only watching it because I was home sick and there was nothing else on, I swear! Anyway, thanks again! Also, I enjoyed the beginning of _Harry Potter and the Legend of the Dragonriders_, and I urge you to get the next chapter up soon! Then again, who am I to complain? Sorry again!

_Prophet-Song_: Thank you for reviewing, and I'm glad that you enjoyed the story so much.

_Jack Wilde_: You reviewed twice, so I replied twice. Here's the update, and thank you so much! I'm flattered, and I will try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible. It probably won't take long; I have this nasty habit of not studying _at all_ and since it's exam week (meaning I have school for less than four hours a day, except for my free days - Tuesday and Thursday), I have a lot of free time.

Thank you all so much!

To those reading but not reviewing:

**Please review!**


	13. I'M BAAAAAAACK! second, sorry

Wow. I've been missing for over six months. I'm terribly sorry! I was sick, and then I was failing math, and then I had writer's block... but it doesn't matter, because I think I'm back now!

I hope to have chapter 12 up in the beginning of August; it would be sooner, but I am going away on the sixteenth for the rest of July, and I have blushes guiltily basically forgotten what this story was about, so I am rereading the old chapters, fixing mistakes, and writing up the new chapter, even as I write this. You can thank the inner machinations of my subconcious mind for my renewal of interest... and I don't think you care anyway, let's just say I had a very nice dream and decided I needed to at least try and finish.

**HOWEVER **I will no longer be posting on simply because the story's rating is going up and I don't want to get in trouble. And so you can find all of the old chapters, and the future ones here (just take out the spaces and add the underscore as I have shown)

www. livejournal .com / llawela(underscore)dragon

Ihope to have all of the chapters fixed and up before I go away, so don't be alarmed if you don't find anything. And if you have a livejournal, add me!

**And to make this legal, here's an excerpt from chapter 12**

There was a knock on the door, and Harry said, "It's fine. You can come in." The door open and Wyatt peeked around the wood, smiling at Harry when he saw him in the middle of the room, looking vaguely uncomfortable in his new clothes, his hair mussed up from when he had hastily pulled the shirt over his head. Self-conciously, Harry reached up a hand and tried to pat his hair down. He scowled when Wyatt laughed and said, "It's hopeless, Harry. Your hair will never lie flat. Just get used to it."

"I bet if I used gel I could make it flat," Harry shot back good-naturedly, smiling a little. Wyatt edged further into the room, and Harry got a good look at his outfit. The black jeans were tight on top, clinging to the curves of his thighs and slight swell of his backside, and flaring out around his claves, stopping just above his sneakers. The shirt was loose, and the collar was flipped carelessly up on one side, while it was partially folded down on the other. It took Harry a moment to realize that Wyatt was grinning at him, and he blushed, looking away when he did. "Don't even try." Harry looked back at him, confused, and Wyatt elaborated, stepping closer to him as he spoke, "To flatten your hair. It looks nice like this." When he was within a foot of Harry, he reached out and ran a hand through his black hair. Harry shivered at the sharp, tiny pain that shook him and the small tickle of warmth that ran down his spine when Wyatt tugged slightly on his hair. "Nice and soft."

"Wyatt..." Harry breathed, face flushed pink as he stared at the blonde, whose eyes moved from the dark strands of silky hair that were sliding through his fingers to his face. Wyatt's hand slipped from his hair to his face, cradling his cheek softly, comfortably. Harry reached up, wrapping his hand around Wyatt's wrist, gripping it, holding it in place, and he turned his face into Wyatt's palm, pressing his lips to the soft, warm skin.

Wyatt was silent as Harry did this, but when Harry suddenly turned back, leaned forward, and captured his lips in an unforceful kiss, he responded immediately, his other arm coming around to wrap around Harry's waist as he swept his tongue across Harry's lower lip. Harry complied immediately, opening his mouth, wrapping his tongue around Wyatt's eagerly.

Harry fisted one of his hands in Wyatt's shirt, wrapping his other arm around Wyatt's neck, pressing into him hungrily, pushing him. They stumbled, and Wyatt's knees hit the back of the bed, which he toppled onto, pulling Harry down on top of him. The kiss broke momentarily, giving Wyatt enough time to gasp, "Wha-," before Harry pressed back into him. Wyatt leaned away, and suddenly Harry found himself on his back, leaned up against a pile of pillows.

**Also in this chapter** - a slight coming out, many Velvet Goldmine references, and the long-awaited Weasley/Halliwell dinner scene. Or perhaps I was the only one anticipating this? Oh well.

Sorry for the long wait, and many apologies and hugs and offerings of chocolate; remember to add me on livejournal (as I'm hoping to start a new revolution... or maybe I have just listened to the Who too much) and have great and safe summers,

Llawela Dragon


	14. MAY 27 2006 AUTHOR'S NOTE

I am officially discontinuing Reaching For The Red Moon. For explanations and further information, go to this site (add the http at the front and remove the spaces):

llawela-dragon . livejournal . com / 917 . html.

I apologize to everyone that was waiting for another chapter, but it appears as if we have reached the end...


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